HISTORY 


OF  THE 


)ONNER    PARTY 


A  TRAGEDY  OF  THE  SIERRA, 


BY  C.  F.  McGLASHAN. 


SEVENTH    EDITION -ILLUSTRATED. 


SACRAMENTO: 

H.  S.  Crocker  Co,,  Printers. 

1902. 


Copyrighted  1879  and  1880,  by  C.  F.  McGlashan. 


TO 

MRS.   ELIZABETH  A.   KEI5ER, 


ONE  OF  THK 


PIONEER  MOTHERS  OF  CALIFORNIA, 
THIS    BOOK 

IS 

RESPECTFULLY   DEDICATED    BY   THE   AUTHOR. 


29li'lS5 


PREFACE. 


HE  delirium  preceding  death  by  starvation,  is  full  of 
strange  phantasies.  Visions  of  plenty,  of  comfort,  of 
elegance,  flit  ever  before  the  fast-dimming  eyes.  The  final 
twilight  of  death  is  a  brief  semi-consciousness  in  which  the 
dying  one  frequently  repeats  his  weird  dreams.  Half  rising 
from  his  snowy  couch,  pointing  upward,  one  of  the  death- 
stricken  at  Donner  Lake  may  have  said,  with  tremulous 
voice:  "Look!  there,  just  above  us,  is  a  beautiful  house.  It 
is  of  costliest  walnut,  inlaid  with  laurel  and  ebony,  and  is 
resplendent  with  burnished  silver.  Magnificent  in  all  its 
apartments,  it  is  furnished  like  a  palace.  It  is  rich  with 
costly  cushions,  elegant  tapestries,  dazzling  mirrors;  its  floor 
is  covered  with  Oriental  carpets,  its  ceiling  with  artistic 
frescoings;  downy  cushions  invite  the  weary  to  repose.  It 
is  filled  with  people  who  are  chatting,  laughing,  and  singing, 
joyous  and  care-free.  There  is  an  abundance  of  warmth, 
and  rare  viands,  and  sparkling  wines.  Suspended  among  the 
storm-clouds,  it  is  flying  along  the  face  of  the  precipice  at  a 
marvelous  speed.  Flying?  no!  it  has  wheels  and  is  gliding 
along  on  a  smooth,  steel  pathway.  It  is  sheltered  from  the 
wind  and  snow  by  large  beams  and  huge  posts,  which  are 
bolted  to  the  cUfls  with  heavy,  iron  rods.  The  avalanches, 
with  their  burden  of  earth  and  rocks  and  crushed  pines, 
sweep  harmlessly  above  this  beautiful  house  and  its  happy 
inmates.  It  is  drawn  by  neither  oxen  nor  horses,  but  by  a 
fiery,  hot-breathed  monster,  with  iron  limbs  and  thews  of 
steel.  The  mountain  trembles  beneath  his  tread,  and  the 
rocks  for  miles  re-echo  his  roar." 


6  PREFACE. 

If  such  a  vision  was  related,  it  but  indicates,  prophetically, 
the  progress  of  a  few  years.  California's  history  is  replete 
with  tragic,  startling  events.  These  events  are  the  landmarks 
by  which  its  advancement  is  traced.  One  of  the  most  mourn- 
ful of  these  is  recorded  in  this  work — a  work  intended  as  a 
contribution,  not  to  the  literature,  but  to  the  history  of  the 
State.  More  thrilling  than  romance,  more  terrible  than  fic- 
tion, the  sufferings  of  the  Donner  Party  form  a  bold  contrast 
to  the  joys  of  pleasure-seekers  who  to-day  look  down  upon 
the  lake  from  the  windows  of  silver  palace  cars. 

The  scenes  of  horror  and  despair  which  transpired  in  the 
snowy  Sierra  in  the  winter  of  1846-7,  need  no  exaggeration, 
no  embellishment.  From  all  the  works  heretofore  published, 
from  over  one  thousand  letters  received  from  the  survivors, 
from  ample  manuscript,  and  from  personal  interviews  with 
the  most  important  actors  in  the  tragedy,  the  facts  have  been 
carefully  compiled.  Neither  time,  pains,  nor  expense  have 
been  spared  in  ferreting  out  the  truth.  New  and  fragmentary 
versions  of  the  sad  story  have  appeared  almost  every  year 
since  the  unfortunate  occurrence.  To  forever  supplant  these 
distorted  and  fabulous  reports — which  have  usually  been  sen- 
sational newspaper  articles — the  survivors  have  deemed  it  wise 
to  contribute  the  truth.     The  truth  is  sufficiently  terrible. 

Where  conflicting  accounts  of  particular  scenes  or  occur- 
rences have  been  contributed,  every  effort  has  been  made  to 
render  them  harmonious  and  reconcilable.  With  justice, 
with  impartiality,  and  with  strict  adherence  to  what  appeared 
truthful  and  reliable,  the  book  has  been  written.  It  is  an 
honest  effort  toward  the  truth,  and  as  such  is  given  to  the 
world, 

C.  F.  McGLASHAN. 

Tkuckee,  Cal.,  June  30,  1879. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 
Donner  Lake — A  Famous  Tourist  Resort — Building  the  Central  Pacific — 
California's  Skating  Park — The  Pioneers — The  Organization  of  the 
Donner  Party — Ho!  for  California! — A  Mammoth  Train — The  Dangers 
by  the  Way  —  False  Accounts  of  the  Sufferings  Endured  —  Complete 
Roll  of  the  Company — Impostors  Claiming  to  Belong  to  the  Party — 
Killed  by  the  Pawnees — An  Alarmed  Camp  —  Resin  Indians — A 
Mother's  Death IS 

CHAPTER  II. 
Mrs.  Donner's  Letters — Life  on  the  Plains — An  Interesting  Sketch — The 
Outfit  Required — The  Platte  River — Botanizing — Five  Hundred  and 
Eighteen  Wagons  for  California  —  Burning  "Buffalo  Chips" — The 
Fourth  of  July  at  Fort  Laramie — Indian  Discipline — Sioux  Attempt  to. 
Purchase  Mary  Graves — George  Donner  Elected  Captain  —  Letter  of 
Stanton — Dissension — One  Company  Split  up  into  Five — The  Fatal 
Hastings  Cut-off — Lowering  Wagons  over  a  Precipice — The  First 
View  of  Great  Salt  Lake 24 

CHAPTER  HI. 
A  Grave  of  Salt — Members  of  the  Mystic  Tie — ^Twenty  Wells — A  Desolate 
Alkaline  Waste — Abandoned  on  the  Desert— A  Night  of  Horror — A 
Steer  Maddened  by  Thirst — The  Mirage — Yoking  an  Ox  and  a  Cow — 
"Cacheing"  Goods — The  Emigrants'  Silent  Logic — A  Cry  for  Relief 
— Two  Heroic  Volunteers — A  Perilous  Journey — Letters  to  Captain 
Sutter 34 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   IV. 


Gravelly  Ford — The  Character  of  James  F.  Reed — Causes  which  Led  to  the 
Reed- Snyder  Tragedy — John  Snyder's  Popularity — The  Fatal  Alterca- 
tion— Conflicting  Statements  of  Survivors — Snyder's  Death — A  Brave 
Girl — A  Primitive  Trial — A  Court  of  Final  Resort — Verdict  of  Banish- 
ment— A  Sad  Separation — George  and  Jacob  Donner  Ahead  at  the 
Time — Finding  Letters  in  Split  Sticks — Danger  of  Starvation 41 

CHAPTER  V. 

Great  Hardships — The  Sink  of  the  Humboldt — Indians  Stealing  Cattle — 
An  Entire  Company  Compelled  to  Walk — Abandoned  to  Die — 
Wolfinger  Murdered — Rhinehart's  Confession — Arrival  of  C.  T.  Stan- 
ton— A  Temporary  Relief — A  Fatal  Accident — The  Sierra  Nevada 
Mountains — Imprisoned  in  Snow — Struggles  for  Freedom — A  Hopeless 
Situation — Digging  for  Cattle  in  Snow — How  the  Breen  Cabin  Hap- 
pened to  be  Built — A  Thrilling  Sketch  of  a  Solitary  Winter — Putting 
up  Shelters — The  Donners  Have  Notliing  but  Tents — Fishing  for  Trout.     51 

CHAPTER  VL 

Endeavors  to  Cross  the  Mountains — Discouraging  Failures — Eddy  Kills  a 
Bear — Making  Snow-Shoes — Who  composed  the  "Forlorn  Hope" — 
Mary  A.  Graves — An  Irishman — A  Generous  Act — Six  Days'  Rations 
—Mary  Graves'  Account— Snow-Blind—C.  T.  Stanton's  Death— "I 
Am  Coming  Soon" — Sketch  of  Stanton's  Early  Life — His  Charity  and 
Self-sacrifice — The  Diamond  Breast-pin — Stanton's  Last  Poem 64 

CHAPTER  VII. 

A  Wife's  Devotion— The  Smoky  Gorge— Caught  in  a  Storm— Casting  Lots 
to  See  Who  should  Die — A  Hidden  River — The  Delirium  of  Starvation 
— Franklin  Ward  Graves — His  Dying  Advice — A  Frontiersman's  Plan — 
The  Camp  of  Death- A  Dread  Resort— A  Sister's  Agony— Tlie  Indians 
Refuse  to  Eat — Lewis  and  Salvador  Flee  for  Their  Lives— Killing  a 
Deer — Tracks  Marked  by  Blood  —Nine  Days  without  Food 78 


CONTENTS.  9 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Starvation  at  Donner  Lake — Preparing  Rawhide  for  Food — Eating  the  Fire- 
rug — Shoveling  Snow  off  the  Beds — Playing  they  were  Tea-cups  of 
Custard — A  Starving  Baby — Pleading  with  Silent  Eloquence — Patrick 
Breen's  Diary — ^Jacob  Donner's  Death — A  Child's  Vow — A  Christmas 
Dinner — Lost  on  the  Summits — A  Stump  Twenty-two  Feet  High — 
Seven  Nursing  Babes  at  Donner  Lake — A  Devout  Father — A  Dying 
Boy — Sorrow  and  Suffering  at  the  Cabins 89 

CHAPTER  IX. 
The  Last  Resort — Two  Reports  of  a  Gun— Only  Temporary  Relief— Weary 
Traveling — The  Snow  Bridges — Human  Tracks! — An  Indian  Rancherie 
— Acorn  Bread — Starving  Five  Times! — Carried  Six  Miles — Bravery  of 
John  Rhodes — A  Thirty-two  Days'  Journey — Organizing  the  First  Relief 
Party — Alcalde  Sinclair's  Address — Capt.  R.  P.  Tucker's  Companions.   105 

CHAPTER  X. 
A  Lost  Age  in  California  History — The  Change  Wrought  by  the  Discovery 
of  Gold — The  Start  from  Johnson's  Ranch — A  Bucking  Horse — A 
Night  Ride — Lost  in  the  Mountains — A  Terrible  Night— A  Flooded 
Camp—  Crossing  a  Mountain  Torrent — Mule  Springs — A  Crazy  Com- 
panion— Howlings  of  Gray  Wolves — A  Deer  Rendezvous — A  Midnight 
Thief— Frightening  Indians — The  Diary  of  the  First  Relief  Party 1 13 

CHAPTER  XI. 
Hardships  of  Reed  and  Herron — Generosity  of  Captain  Sutter — Attempts 
to  Cross  the  Mountains  with  Provisions — Curtis'  Dog — Compelled  to 
Turn  Back — Hostilities  with  Mexico — Memorial  to  Gov.  Stockton — 
Yerba  Buena's  Generosity — Johnson's  Liberality — Pitiful  Scenes  at 
Donner  Lake — Noble  Mothers — Dying  rather  than  Eat  Human  Flesh 
— A  Mother's  Prayer — Tears  of  Joy — Eating  the  Shoestrings 121 

CHAPTER   Xn. 
A  Wife's  Devotion — Tamsen  Donner's  Early  Life — The  Early  Settlers  of 
Sangamon  County — An  Incident  in  School — Teaching  and   Knitting 


lO  CONTENTS. 

—  School  Discipline — Capt.  George  Donner's  Appearance — Parting 
Scenes  at  Alder  Creek — Starting  over  the  Mountains — A  Baby's  Death 
— A  Mason's  Vow — Crossing  the  Snow  Barrier — More  Precious  than 
Gold  or  Diamonds — Elitha  Donner's  Kindness 137 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

Death  of  Ada  Keseberg — Denton  Discovering  Gold — A  Poem  Composed 
while  Dying — The  Caches  of  Provisions  Robbed  by  Fishers — The 
Sequel  to  the  Reed-Snyder  Tragedy — Death  from  Overeating — The 
Agony  of  Frozen  Feet — An  Interrupted  Prayer — Stanton,  after  Death, 
Guides  the  Relief  Party! — The  Second  Relief  Party  Arrives — A  Soli- 
tary Indian — Patty  Reed  and  Her  Father — Starving  Children  Lying  in 
Bed — Mrs.  Graves'  Money  still  Buried  at  Donner  Lake 148 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Leaving  Three  Men  in  the  Mountains — The  Emigrants  Quite  Helpless — 
Bear  Tracks  in  the  Snow — The  Clumps  of  Tamarack — Wounding  a 
Bear — Blood  Stains  upon  the  Snow — A  Weary  Chase — A  Momentous 
Day — Stone  and  Cady  Leave  the  Sufferers — A  Mother  Offering  Five 
Hundred  Dollars  —  Mrs.  Donner  Parting  from  her  Children — "God 
will  Take  Care  of  You" — Buried  in  Snow  without  Food  or  Fire — 
Pines  Uprooted  by  the  Storm — A  Grave  Cut  in  the  Snow — The  Cub's 
Cave — Firing  at  Random — A  Desperate  Undertaking — Preparing  for  a 
Hand-to-hand  Battle — Precipitated  into  the  Cave — Seizing  the  Bear — 
Mrs.  Elizabeth  Donner's  Death — Clarke  and  Baptiste  Attempt  to 
Escape  —A  Death,  more  Cruel  than  Starvation 163 

CHAPTER  XV. 

A  Mountain  Storm — Provisions  Exhausted — Battling  the  Storm  Fiends — 
Black  Despair — Icy  Coldness — A  Picture  of  Desolation — The  Sleep  of 
Death — A  Piteous  Farewell — Falling  into  the  Fire-well — Isaac  Donner's 
Death — Living  upon  Snow  Water — Excruciating  Pain — A  Vision  of 
Angels — "Patty  is  Dying!" — The  Thumb  of  a  Mitten — A  Child's 
Treasures — The  "Dolly"  of  the  Donner  Party 170 


CONTENTS.  1 1 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

A  Mother  at  Starved  Camp — Repeating  the  Litany — Hoping  in  Despair — 
Wasting  Away — The  Precious  Lump  of  Sugar — "James  is  Dying" — 
Restoring  a  Life — Relentless  Hunger — The  Silent  Night  Vigils — The 
Sight  of  Earth — Descending  the  Snow  Pit — The  Flesh  of  the  Dead — 
Refusing  to  Eat — The  Morning  Star — The  Mercy  of  God — The  Muti- 
lated Forms — The  Dizziness  of  Delirium — Faith  Rewarded — "There  is 
Mrs.  Breen." 183 


CHAPTER  XVIL 

The  Rescue — California  Aroused — A  Verba  Buena  Newspaper — Tidings  of 
Woe — A  Cry  of  Distress — Noble  Generosity — Subscriptions  for  the 
Donner  Party — The  First  and  Second  Reliefs — Organization  of  the 
Third — The  Dilemma — Voting  to  Abandon  a  Family — The  Fatal 
Ayes — John  Stark's  Bravery — Carrying  the  Starved  Children — A  Plea 
for  the  Relief  Party 191 

CHAPTER  XVHL 

Arrival  of  the  Third  Relief — The  Living  and  the  Dead — Captain  George 
Donner  Dying — Mrs.  Murphy's  Words — Foster  and  Eddy  at  the  Lake 
— Tamsen  Donner  and  Pier  Children — A  Fearful  Struggle — The  Hus- 
band's Wishes — Walking  Fourteen  Miles — Wifely  Devotion — Choosing 
Death — The  Night  Journey — An  Unparalleled  Ordeal — An  Honored 
Name— Three  Little  Waifs — "And  Our  Parents  are  Dead." 199 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

False  Ideas  about  the  Donner  Party — Accused  of  Six  Murders — Interviews 
vrith  Lewis  Keseberg — His  Statement — An  Educated  German — A  Pre- 
destined Fate — Keseberg's  Lameness — Slanderous  Reports — Covered 
with  Snow — "Loathsome,  Insipid,  and  Disgusting" — Longings  toward 
Suicide — Tamsen  Donner's  Death — Going  to  Get  the  Treasure — Sus- 
pended over  a  Hidden  Stream — "Where  is  Donner's  Money?" — Ex- 
torting a  Confession 205 


12  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Dates  of  the  Rescues — Arrival  of  the  Fourth  Relief — A  Scene  Beggaring 
Description — The  Wealth  of  the  Donners — An  Appeal  to  the  Highest 
Court — A  Dreadful  Shock — Saved  from  a  Grizzly  Bear — A  Trial  for 
Slander — Keseberg  Vindicated — Two  Kettles  of  Human  Blood — The 
Enmity  of  the  Relief  Party — "Bom  under  an  Evil  Star"  —  "Stone 
Him!  Stone  Him!" — Fire  and  Flood — Keseberg's  Reputation  for  Hon- 
esty— A  Prisoner  in  His  Own  House — The  Most  Miserable  of  Men 216 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
Sketch  of  Gen.  John  A.  Sutter — The  Donner  Party's  Benefactor — The 
Least  and  Most  that  Earth  can  Bestow — The  Survivors'  Request — His 
Birth  and  Parentage — Efforts  to  Reach  California — New  Helvetia — 
A  Puny  Army — Uninviting  Isolation — Ross  and  Bodega — Unbounded 
Generosity — Sutter's  Wealth — Effect  of  the  Gold  Fever — Wholesale 
Robbery — The  Sobrante  Decision — A  "Genuine  and  Meritorious" 
Grant — Utter  Ruin — Hock  Farm — Gen.  Sutter's  Death — Mrs.  E.  P. 
Houghton's  Tribute 225 

CHAPTER   XXII. 

The  Death  List — The  Forty-two  Who  Perished — Names  of  Those  Saved — 
Forty-eight  Survivors — Traversing  Snow-belt  Five  Times — Burying  the 
Dead — An  Appalling  Spectacle — Tamsen  Donner's  Last  Act  of  Devo- 
tion— A  Remarkable  Proposal — Twenty-six  Present  Survivors — Mc- 
Cutchen  —  Keseberg — The  Graves  Family — The  Murphys — Naming 
Marysville — The  Reeds — The  Breens 236 

CHAPTER  XXin. 
The  Orphan  Children  of  George  and  Tamsen  Donner — Sutter,  the  Philan- 
thropist— "If  Mother  Would  Only  Come"— Christian  and  Mary  Brun- 
ner — An  Enchanting  Home — "Can't  You  Keep  Both  of  Us?" — Eliza 
Donner  Crossing  the  Torrent — Earning  a  Silver  Dollar — The  Gold 
Excitement — Getting  an  Education — Elitha  C.  Donner — Leanna  C. 
Donner — Frances  E.  Donner— Georgia  A.  Donner — Eliza  P.  Donner..  247 


CONTENTS.  1 3 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 
Yerba  Buena's  Gift  to  George  and  Mary  Donner — An  Alcalde's  Negligence 
— Mary  Donner's  Land  Regranted — Squatters  Jump  George  Donner's 
Land — A  Characteristic  Land  Law-suit — Vexatious  Litigation — Twice 
Appealed  to  Supreme  Court,  and  once  to  United  States  Supreme  Court 
— A  Well-taken  Law  Point — Mutilating  Records — A  Palpable  Erasure 
— Relics  of  the  Donner  Party — Five  Hundred  Articles  Buried  Thirty- 
two  Years — Knives,  Forks,  Spoons — Pretty  Porcelain — Identifying 
Chinaware — Beads  and  Arrow-heads — A  Quaint  Bridle-bit — Remark- 
able Action  of  Rust — A  Flint-Lock  Pistol — A  Baby's  Shoe — The  Rest- 
ing Place  of  the  D°ad — Vanishing  Land-marks 253 


LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Page 

DoNNER  Lake Frontispiece. 

Eliza  P.  Donner i6 

Georgia  A.  Donner 20 

The  Breen  Family 44 

Virginia  E.  Reed 66 

Mattie  J.  (Patty)  Reed 78 

Mary  A.  Graves 100 

Reasin  p.  Tucker no 

C.  T.  Stanton 122 

Sutter's  Fort 130 

James  F.  Reed  146 

Mrs.  Margaret  W.  Reed 160 

Nicholas  Clark 184 

W.  C.  Graves , 202 

Lewis  Keseberg 220 

Gen.  J.  A.  Sutter 232 

William  McCutchkn 244 

Thk  Big  Rock 254 


Chapter  I. 


Donner  Lake — A  Famous  Tourist  Resort — Building  the  Central  Pacific — Cali- 
fornia's Skating  Park — The  Pioneers — The  Organization  of  the  Donner 
Party — Ho!  for  California! — A  Mammoth  Train — The  Dangers  by  the 
Way — False  Accounts  of  the  Sufferings  Endured — Complete  Roll  of  the 
Company — Impostors  Claiming  to  Belong  to  the  Party — Killed  by  the 
Pawnees — An  Alarmed  Camp — Resin  Indians — A  Mother's  Death. 

sHREE  miles  from  Truckee,  Nevada  County,  Cali- 
fornia, lies  one  of  the  fairest  and  most  picturesque 
lakes  in  all  the  Sierra.  Above,  and  on  either  side, 
are  lofty  mountains,  with  castellated  granite  crests, 
while  below,  at  the  mouth  of  the  lake,  a  grassy, 
meadowy  valley  widens  out  and  extends  almost  to  Truckee. 
The  body  of  water  is  three  miles  long,  one  and  a  half  miles 
wide,  and  four  hundred  and  eighty-three  feet  in  depth. 

Tourists  and  picnic  parties  annually  flock  to  its  shores,  and 
Bierstadt  has  made  it  the  subject  of  one  of  his  finest,  grand- 
est paintings.  In  summer,  its  willowy  thickets,  its  groves  of 
tamarack  and  forests  of  pine,  are  the  favorite  haunts  and  nest- 
ing places  of  the  quail  and  grouse.  Beautiful,  speckled  mount- 
ain trout  plentifully  abound  in  its  crystalline  waters.  A  rippling 
breeze  usually  wimples  and  dimples  its  laughing  surface,  but 
in  calmer  moods  it  reflects,  as  in  a  polished  mirror,  the  lofty, 


1 6  HISTORY   OF   THE    CONNER    PARTY. 

overhanging  mountains,  with  every  stately  pine,  bounding 
rivulet,  blossoming  shrub,  waving  fern,  and — high  above  all, 
on  the  right — the  clinging,  thread-like  line  of  the  snow-sheds 
of  the  Central  Pacific.  When  the  railroad  was  being  con- 
structed, three  thousand  people  dwelt  on  its  shores;  the  sur- 
rounding forests  resounded  with  the  music  of  axes  and  saws, 
and  the  terrific  blasts  exploded  in  the  lofty,  o'ershadowing 
cliffs,  filled  the  canyons  with  reverberating  thunders,  and 
hurled  huge  bowlders  high  in  the  air  over  the  lake's  quiver- 
ing bosom. 

In  winter  it  is  almost  as  popular  a  pleasure  resort  as  dur- 
ing the  summer.  The  jingling  of  sleighbells,  and  the  shouts 
and  laughter  of  skating  parties,  can  be  heard  almost  con- 
stantly. The  lake  forms  the  grandest  skating  park  on  the 
Pacific  Coast. 

Yet  this  same  Donner  Lake  was  the  scene  of  one  of  the 
most  thrilling,  heart-rending  tragedies  ever  recorded  in  Cali- 
fornia history.  Interwoven  with  the  very  name  of  the  lake 
are  memories  of  a  tale  of  destitution,  loneliness,  and  despair, 
which  borders  on  the  incredible.  It  is  a  tale  that  has  been 
repeated  in  many  a  miner's  cabin,  by  many  a  hunter's  camp- 
fire,  and  in  many  a  frontiersman's  home,  and  everywhere  it 
has  been  listened  to  with  bated  breath. 

The  pioneers  of  a  new  country  are  deserving  of  a  niche  in 
the  country's  history.  The  pioneers  who  became  martyrs  to 
the  cause  of  the  development  of  an  almost  unknown  land, 
deserve  to  have  a  place  in  the  hearts  of  its  inhabitants.  The 
far-famed  Donner  Party  were,  in  a  peculiar  sense,  pioneer 
martyrs  of  California.  Before  the  discovery  of  gold,  before 
the  highway  across  the  continent  was  fairly  marked  out, 
while  untold  dangers  lurked  by  the  wayside,  and  unnumbered 
foes  awaited  the  emigrants,  the  Donner  Party  started  for  Cali- 
fornia.    None  but  the  brave  and  venturesome,  none  but  the 


KIJZA  P.  DONNER 


ORGANIZATION   OF   THE    PARTY,  1 7 

energetic  and  courageous,  could  undertake  such  a  journey. 
In  1846,  comparatively  few  had  dared  attempt  to  cross  the 
almost  unexplored  plains  which  lay  between  the  Mississippi 
and  the  fair  young  land  called  California.  Hence  it  is  that 
a  certain  grandeur,  a  certain  heroism  seems  to  cling  about 
the  men  and  women  composing  this  party,  even  from  the  day 
they  began  their  perilous  journey  across  the  plains.  Cali- 
fornia, with  her  golden  harvests,  her  beautiful  homes,  her 
dazzhng  wealth,  and  her  marvelous  commercial  facilities,  may 
well  enshrine  the  memory  of  these  noble-hearted  pioneers, 
pathfinders,  martyrs. 

The  States  along  the  Mississippi  were  but  sparsely  settled  in 
1846,  yet  the  fame  of  the  fruitfulness,  the  healthfulness,  and 
the  almost  tropical  beauty  of  the  land  bordering  the  Pacific, 
tempted  the  members  of  the  Donner  Party  to  leave  their 
homes.  These  homes  were  situated  in  Illinois,  Iowa,  Ten- 
nessee, Missouri,  and  Ohio.  Families  from  each  of  these 
States  joined  the  train  and  participated  in  its  terrible  fate;  yet 
the  party  proper  was  organized  in  Sangamon  County,  Illinois, 
by  George  and  Jacob  Donner  and  James  F.  Reed.  Early  in 
April,  1846,  the  party  set  out  from  Springfield,  Illinois,  and 
by_thjejfirstweek_in  May  reached  Independence,  Missouri. 
Here  the  party  was  increased  by  additional  members,  and  the 
train  comprised  about  one  hundred  persons. 

Independence  was  on  the  frontier  in  those  days,  and  every 
care  was  taken  to  have  ample  provisions  laid  in  and  all  neces- 
sary preparations  made  for  the  long  journey.  Ay,  it  was  a 
long  journey  for  many  in  the  party!  Great  as  was  the 
enthusiasm  and  eagerness  with  which  these  noble-hearted 
pioneers  caught  up  the  cry  of  the  times,  "Ho!  for  Califor- 
nia!" it  is  doubtful  if  presentiments  of  the  fate  to  be  en- 
countered were  not  occasionally  entertained.  The  road  was 
difficult,  and    in  places   almost    unbroken;    warlike    Indians 


l8  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER   PARTY. 

guarded  the  way,  and  death,  in  a  thousand  forms,  hovered 
about  their  march  through  the  great  wilderness. 

In  the  party  were  aged  fathers  with  their  trusting  famiHes 
about  them,  mothers  whose  very  Hves  were  wrapped  up  in 
their  children,  men  in   the  prime   and  vigor  of  manhood, 
maidens  in  all  the  sweetness  and  freshness  of  budding  woman- 
hood, children  full  of  glee  and  mirthfulness,  and  babes  nest- 
ling on  maternal  breasts.     Lovers  there  were,  to  whom  the 
journey  was  tinged  with  rainbow  hues  of  joy  and  happiness, 
and  strong,  manly  hearts  whose   constant  support  and  en- 
couragement was  the  memory  of  dear  ones  left  behind  in 
home-land.     The  cloud  of  gloom  which  finally  settled  down 
in  a  death-pall  over  their   heads  was   not   yet   perceptible, 
though,  as  we  shall  soon  see,  its  mists  began  to  collect  al- 
most at  the  outset,  in  the  delays  which  marked  the  journey. 
The    wonderment   which   all   experience    in   viewing   the 
scenery  along  the  line  of  the  old  emigrant  road  was  pecul- 
iarly vivid  to  these  people.    Few  descriptions  had  been  given 
of  the  route,  and  all  was  novel  and  unexpected.     In    later 
years  the  road  was  broadly  and  deeply  marked,  and  good 
camping  grounds  were  distinctly  indicated.     The  bleaching 
bones  of  cattle  that  had  perished,  or  the  broken  fragments  of 
wagons  or  cast-away  articles,  were  thickly  strewn  on  either 
side  of  the  highway.     But  in   1846  the  way  was  through  al- 
most trackless  valleys  waving  with  grass,  along  rivers  where 
few  paths  were  visible,  save  those  made  by  the  feet  of  buf- 
faloes and  antelope,  and   over  mountains  and  plains  where 
little  more  than  the  westward  course  of  the  sun  guided  the 
travelers.     Trading-posts  were  stationed  at  only  a  few  widely 
distant  points,  and  rarely  did  the  party  meet  with  any  human 
beings,  save  wandering  bands  of  Indians.    Yet  these  first  days 
are  spoken  of  by  all  of  the  survivors  as  being  crowned  with 
peaceful  enjoyment  and  pleasant  anticipations.     There  were 


A    MAMiMOTH   TRAIN.  I9 

beautiful  flowers  by  the  roadside,  an  abundance  of  game  in 
the  meadows  and  mountains,  and  at  night  there  were  singing, 
dancing,  and  innocent  plays.  Several  musical  instruments, 
and  many  excellent  voices,  were  in  the  party,  cfnd  the  kind- 
liest feeling  and  good-fellowship  prevailed  among  the  mem- 
bers. 

The  formation  of  the  company  known  as  the  Donner  Party 
was  purely  accidental.  The  union  of  so  many  emigrants 
into  one  train  was  not  occasioned  by  any  preconcerted  ar- 
rangement. Many  composing  the  Donner  Party  were  not 
aware,  at  the  outset,  that  such  a  tide  of  emigration  was 
sweeping  to  California.  In  many  instances  small  parties 
would  hear  of  the  mammoth  train  just  ahead  of  them  or  just 
behind  them,  and  by  hastening  their  pace,  or  halting  for  a 
few  days,  joined  themselves  to  the  party.  Many  were  with 
the  train  during  a  portion  of  the  journey,  but  from  some 
cause  or  other  became  parted  from  the  Donner  company 
before  reaching  Donner  Lake.  Soon  after  the  train  left  In- 
dependence it  contained  between  two  and  three  hundred 
wagons,  and  when  in  motion  was  two  miles  in  length. 

With  much  bitterness  and  severity  it  is  alleged  by  some  of 
the  survivors  of  the  dreadful  tragedy  that  certain  impostors 
and  falsifiers  claim  to  have  been  members  of  the  Donner 
Party,  and  as  such  have  written  untruthful  and  exaggerated  * 
accounts  of  the  sufferings  of  the  partv.  While  this  is  un- 
questionably true,  it  is  barely  possible  that  some  who  assert 
membership  found  their  claim  upon  the  fact  that  during  a 
portion  of  the  journey  they  were  really  in  the  Donner  Party. 
Bearing  this  in  mind,  there  is  less  difficulty  in  reconciling  the 
conflicting  statements  of  different  narrators. 

The  members  of  the  party  proper  numbered  ninety,  and 
vvere  as  follows : 

George  Donner,  Tamsen  Donner  (his  wife),  Elitha  C.  Don- 


20  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

ner,  Leanna  C.  Donner,  Frances  E.  Donner,  Georgia  A.  Don- 
ner  and  Eliza  P.  Donner.  The  last  three  were  children  of 
George  and  Tamsen  Donner;  Elitha  and  Leanna  were  chil- 
dren of  George  Donner  by  a  former  wife. 

Jacob  Donner,  Elizabeth  Donner  (his  wife),  Solomon  Hook, 
William  Hook,  George  Donner,  Jr.,  Mary  M.  Donner,  Isaac 
Donner,  Lewis  Donner  and  Samuel  Donner.  Jacob  Donner 
was  a  brother  of  George ;  Solomon  and  William  Hook  were 
sons  of  Elizabeth  Donner  by  a  former  husband. 

James  Frazier  Reed,  Margaret  W.  Reed  (his  wife),  Vir- 
ginia E.  Reed,  Martha  F.  (Patty)  Reed,  James  F.  Reed,  Jr., 
Thomas  K.  Reed,  and  Mrs.  Sarah  Keyes,  the  mother  o£  Mrs. 
Reed. 

The  two  Donner  families  and  the  Reeds  were  from  Spring- 
field, Illinois.  From  the  same  place  were  Baylis  Williams 
and  his  half-sister  Eliza  Williams,  John  Denton,  Milton  El- 
liott, James  Smith,  Walter  Herron  and  Noah  Jam.es. 

From  Marshall  County,  Illinois,  came  Franklin  Ward 
Graves,  Elizabeth  Graves  (his  wife),  Mary  A.  Graves,  William 
C.  Graves,  Eleanor  Graves,  Lovina  Graves,  Nancy  Graves, 
Jonathan  B.  Graves,  F.  W.  Graves,  Jr.,  Elizabeth  Graves,  Jr., 
Jay  Fosdick  and  Mrs.  Sarah  Fosdick  {ni^e  Graves).  With 
this  family  came  John  Snyder. 

From  Keokuk,  Lee  County,  Iowa,  came  Patrick  Breen, 
Mrs.  Margaret  Breen,  John  Breen,  Edward  J.  Breen,  Patrick 
Breen,  Jr.,  Simon  P.  Breen,  James  F.  Breen,  Peter  Breen,  and 
Isabella  M.  Breen.     Patrick  Dolan  also  came  from  Keokuk. 

William  H.  P^ddy,  Mrs.  Eleanor  Eddy,  James  P.  Eddy,  and 
Margaret  Eddy  came  from  Belleville,  Illinois. 

From  Tennessee  came  Mrs.  Lavina  Murphy,  a  widow,  and 
her  family,  John  Landrum  Murphy,  Mary  M.  Murphy,  Lem- 
uel B.  Murphy,  William  G.  Murphy,  Simon  P.  Murphy, 
William  M.  Pike,  Mrs.  Harriet  F.  Pike  («/<?  Murphy),  Naomi 


GEORGIA  A.  DONNER. 

Mrs.  W.  A.  Babcock.) 

1879. 


KILLED    BY  THE   PAWNEES.  21 

L.  Pike,  and  Catherine  Pike.  Another  son-in-law  of  Mrs. 
Murphy,  WiUiam  M.  Foster,  with  his  wife,  Mrs.  Sarah  A,  C. 
Foster,  and  infant  boy  George  Foster,  came  from  St.  Louis, 
Missouri. 

William  McCutchen,  Mrs.  W.  McCutchen,  and  Harriet  Mc- 
Cutchen  were  from  Jackson  County,  Missouri. 

Lewis  Keseberg,  Mrs.  Phillipine  Keseberg,  Ada  Keseberg, 
and  L.  Keseberg,  Jr.,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wolfinger,  Joseph  Rhine- 
hart,  Augustus  Spitzer,  and  Charles  Burger,  came  from  Ger- 
many. 

Samuel  Shoemaker  came  from  Springfield,  Ohio,  Charles 
T.  Stanton  from  Chicago,  Illinois,  Luke  Halloran  from  St.  Jo- 
seph, Missouri,  Mr.  Hardcoop  from  Antwerp,  in  Belgium, 
Antoine  from  New  Mexico.  John  Baptiste  was  a  Spaniard, 
who  joined  the  train  near  the  Santa  Fe  trail,  and  Lewis  and 
Salvador  were  two  Indians,  who  were  sent  out  from  Cali- 
fornia by  Captain  Sutter. 

The  Breens  joined  the  company  at  Independence,  Missouri, 
and  the  Graves  family  overtook  the  train  one  hundred  miles 
west  of  Fort  Bridger.  Each  family,  prior  to  its  consolidation 
with  the  train,  had  its  individual  incidents.  William  Trimble, 
who  was  traveling  with  the  Graves  family,  was  slain  by  the 
Pawnee  Indians  about  fifty  miles  east  of  Scott's  Bluff.  Trim- 
ble left  a  wife  and  two  or  three  children.  The  wife  and  some 
of  her  relatives  were  so  disheartened  by  this  sad  bereavement, 
and  by  the  fact  that  many  of  their  cattle  were  stolen  by  the 
Indians,  that  they  gave  up  the  journey  to  California,  and 
turned  back  to  the  homes  whence  they  had  started. 

An  amusing  incident  is  related  in  the  Healdsburg  (Cal.) 
Flag,  by  Mr.  W.  C.  Graves,  of  Calistoga,  which  occurred 
soon  after  his  party  left  St.  Joseph,  Missouri.  It  was  on  the 
fourth  night  out,  and  Mr.  Graves  and  four  or  five  others  were 
detailed  to  stand  guard.     The  constant  terror  of  the  emi- 


22  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER   PARTY. 

grants  in  those  days  was  Indians.  Both  the  Pawnees,  the 
Sioux,  and  the  Snakes  were  warHke  and  powerful,  and  were 
jealous,  revengeful,  and  merciless  toward  the  whites.  That 
night  a  fire  somehow  started  in  the  prairie  grass  about  half  a 
mile  from  camp.  The  west  wind,  blowing  fierce  and  strong, 
carried  the  flames  in  great  surging  gusts  through  the  tall 
prairie  grass.  A  resin  weed  grows  in  bunches  in  this  part  <^f 
the  country,  generally  attaining  the  height  of  four  or  five  feet. 
The  night  being  very  dark,  these  weeds  could  be  seen  stand- 
ing between  the  fire  and  the  guards.  As  the  flames  swayed 
past  the  weeds,  the  impression  was  very  naturally  produced 
upon  the  mind  of  a  timid  beholder  that  the  weeds  were  mov- 
ing in  the  opposite  direction.  This  optical  illusion  caused 
some  of  the  guards  to  believe  that  the  Indians  had  set  fire  to 
the  grass,  and  were  moving  in  immense  numbers  between 
them  and  the  fire  with  intent  to  surround  them,  stampede  the 
cattle,  and  massacre  the  entire  party.  The  watcher  next  to 
Mr.  Graves  discovered  the  enemy,  and  rushed  breathlessly  to 
his  comrade  to  impart  the  intelligence.  Scarcely  had  Mr. 
Graves  quieted  him  before  it  was  evident  that  a  general  alarm 
had  been  spread  in  the  camp.  Two  other  guards  had  seen 
the  Indians,  and  the  aroused  camp,  armed  to  the  teeth, 
marched  out  to  give  battle  to  the  imaginary  foe.  It  was  a 
rich  joke,  and  it  was  some  time  before  those  who  were  scared 
heard  the  last  of  the  resin  Indians. 

Only  once,  before  reaching  Salt  Lake,  did  death  invade  the 
joyous  Donner  company.  It  was  near  the  present  site  of 
Manhattan,  Kansas,  and  Mrs.  Sarah  Keyes  was  the  victim. 
This  estimable  lady  was  the  mother  of  Mrs.  J.  F.  Reed,  and 
had  reached  her  four  score  and  ten  years.  Her  aged  frame 
and  feeble  health  were  not  equal  to  the  fatigues  and  exposure 
of  ihc  trip,  and  on  the  thirtieth  of  May  they  laid  her  tenderly 
to  rest.     She  was  buried  in  a  coffin  carefully  fashioned  from 


A    MOTHER  S    DEATH. 


23 


the  trunk  of  a  Cottonwood  tree,  and  on  the  brow  of  a  beauti- 
ful knoll  overlooking  the  valley.  A  grand  old  oak,  still 
standing,  guards  the  lonely  grave  of  the  dear  old  mother  who 
was  spared  the  sight  of  the  misery  in  store  for  her  loved  ones. 
Could  those  who  performed  the  last  sad  rites  have  caught  a 
vision  of  the  horrors  awaiting  the  party,  they  would  have 
known  how  good  was  the  God  who  in  mercy  took  her  to 
Himself. 


Chapter  II. 


Mrs.  Donner's  Letters — Life  on  the  Plains — An  Interesting  Sketch — The  Outfit 
Required — The  Platte  River — Botanizing — Five  Hundred  and  Eighteen 
Wagons  for  California — Burning  "Buffalo  Chips" — The  Fourth  of  July  at 
Fort  Laramie — Indian  Discipline  —  Sioux  Attempt  to  Purchase  Maiy 
Graves — George  Donner  Elected  Captain — Letter  of  Stanton — Dissension — 
One  Company  Split  up  into  Five — The  Fatal  Hastings  Cut-off — Lowering 
Wagons  over  the  Precipice — The  First  View  of  Great  Salt  Lake. 

j^l^l^^RESENTING,  as  they  do,  an  interesting  glimpse  of 
the  first  portion  of  the  journey,  the  following  letters 
are   here  introduced.     They  were   written   by   Mrs. 

fTamsen  Donner,  and  were  published  in  the  Spring- 
field (Illinois)  Journal.  Thanks  for  copies  of  these 
letters  are  due  to  Mrs.  Eliza  P.  Houghton  of  San  Jose,  Mrs. 
Donner's  youngest  daughter.  Allusions  are  made  in  these 
letters  to  botanical  researches.  Mrs.  Donner,  C.  T.  Stanton, 
and  perhaps  one  or  two  others  who  were  prominent  actors 
in  the  later  history,  were  particularly  fond  of  botany.  Mrs. 
Donner  made  valuable  collections  of  rare  flowers  and  plants. 
Her  journal,  and  a  full  description  of  the  contents  of  her 
botanical  portfolios,  were  to  have  been  published  upon  her 
arrival  in  California. 

Though  bearing  the  same  date,  the  letters  here  presented 
were  written  at  different  times.  The  following  appeared  in 
the  Springfield  Journal,  July  23,  1846: 


MRS.  Conner's  letters.  25 

Near  the  Junction  of  the  North         ) 
AND   South  Platte,  June  16,  1846.  ) 

My  Old  Friend:  We  are  now  on  the  Platte,  two  hundred 
miles  from  Fort  Laramie.  Our  journey  so  far  has  been  pleas- 
ant, the  roads  have  been  good,  and  food  plentiful.  The  water 
for  part  of  the  way  has  been  indifferent,  but  at  no  time  have 
our  cattle  suffered  for  it.  Wood  is  now  very  scarce,  but 
"buffalo  chips"  are  excellent;  they  kindle  quickly  and  retain 
heat  surprisingly.  We  had  this  morning  buffalo  steaks 
broiled  upon  them  that  had  the  same  flavor  they  would  have 
had  upon  hickory  coals. 

We  feel  no  fear  of  Indians,  our  cattle  graze  quietly  around 
our  encampment  unmolested. 

Two  or  three  men  will  go  hunting  twenty  miles  from  camp; 
and  last  night  two  of  our  men  lay  out  in  the  wilderness 
rather  than  ride  their  horses  after  a  hard  chase. 

Indeed,  if  I  do  not  experience  something  far  worse  than  I 
have  yet  done,  I  shall  say  the  trouble  is  all  in  getting  started. 
Our  wagons  have  not  needed  much  repair,  and  I  can  not  yet 
tell  in  what  respects  they  could  be  improved.  Certain  it  is, 
they  can  not  be  too  strong.  Our  preparations  for  the  jour- 
ney might  have  been  in  some  respects  bettered. 

Bread  has  been  the  principal  article  of  food  in  our  camp. 
We  laid  in  150  pounds  of  flour  and  75  pounds  of  meat  for 
each  individual,  and  I  fear  bread  will  be  scarce.  Meat  is 
abundant.  Rice  and  beans  are  good  articles  on  the  road; 
cornmeal,  too,  is  acceptable.  Linsey  dresses  are  the  most 
suitable  for  children.  Indeed,  if  I  had  one,  it  would  be  ac- 
ceptable. There  is  so  cool  a  breeze  at  all  times  on  the  plains 
that  the  sun  does  not  feel  so  hot  as  one  would  suppose. 

We  are  now  four  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  Independ- 
ence. Our  route  at  first  was  rough,  and  through  a  timbered 
country,  which  appeared  to  be  fertile.     After  striking  the 


26  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONN'ER    PARTY. 

prairie,  we  found  a  first-rate  road,  and  the  only  difficulty  we 
have  had,  has  been  in  crossing  the  creeks.  In  that,  however, 
there  has  been  no  danger. 

I  never  could  have  believed  we  could  have  traveled  so  far 
with  so  little  difficulty.  The  prairie  between  the  Blue  and 
the  Platte  rivers  is  beautiful  beyond  description.  Never  have 
I  seen  so  varied  a  country,  so  suitable  for  cultivation.  Every- 
thing was  new  and  pleasing;  the  Indians  frequently  come  to 
see  us,  and  the  chiefs  of  a  tribe  breakfasted  at  our  tent  this 
morning.  All  are  so  friendly  that  I  can  not  help  feeling  sym- 
pathy and  friendship  for  them.  But  on  one  sheet  what  can 
J  say? 

Since  we  have  been  on  the  Platte,  we  have  had  the  river  on 
one  side  and  the  ever  varying  mounds  on  the  other,  and  have 
traveled  through  the  bottom  lands  from  one  to  two  miles 
wide,  with  little  or  no  timber.  The  soil  is  sandy,  and  last 
year,  on  account  of  the  dry  season,  the  emigrants  found  grass 
here  scarce.  Our  cattle  are  in  good  order,  and  when  proper 
care  has  been  taken,  none  have  been  lost.  Our  milch  cows 
have  been  of  great  service,  indeed.  They  have  been  of 
more  advantage  th^n  our  meat.  We  have  plenty  of  butter 
and  milk. 

We  are  commanded  by  Captain  Russell,  an  amiable  man. 
George  Donner  is  himself  yet.  He  crows  in  the  morning 
and  shouts  out,  "  Chain  up,  boys — chain  up,"  with  as  much 
authority  as  though  he  was  "something  in  particular."  John 
Denton  is  still  with  us.  We  find  him  useful  in  the  camp. 
Hiram  Miller  and  Noah  James  are  in  good  health  and  doing 
well.  Wc  have  of  the  best  people  in  our  company,  and  some, 
too,  that  are  not  so  good. 

Buffaloes  show  themselves  frequently. 

Wc  have  found  the  wild  tulip,  the  primrose,  the  lupine,  the 
eardrop,  the  larkspur,  and  creeping  hollyhock,  and  a  beauti- 


FOURTH  OF  JULY  AT  FORT  LARAMIE.  2J 

ful  flower  resembling  the  bloom  of  the  beech  tree,  but  in 
bunches  as  large  as  a  small  sugar-loaf,  and  of  every  variety 
of  shade,  to  red  and  green. 

I  botanize,  and  read  some,  but  cook  "heaps"  more.    There 
are  four  hundred  and   twenty  wagons,  as    far  as    we   have 
heard,  on  the  road  between  here  and  Oregon  and  California. 
Give  our  love  to  all  inquiring  friends.     God  bless  them. 

Yours,  truly, 

Mrs.  George  Donner. 

The  following  letter  was  published  in  the  Journal  of  July 

30,  1846: 

South  Fork  of  the  Nebraska, 
Ten  Miles  from  the  Crossing, 

Tuesday,  June   16,    1846. 

Dear  Friend  :  To-day,  at  nooning,  there  passed,  going  to 
the  States,  seven  men  from  Oregon,  who  went  out  last  year. 
One  of  them  was  well  acquainted  with  Messrs.  Ide  and  Cad- 
den  Keyes,  the  latter  of  whom,  he  says,  went  to  California. 
They  met  the  advance  Oregon  caravan  about  150  miles  west 
of  Fort  Laramie,  and  counted  in  all,  for  Oregon  and  Califor- 
nia (excepting  ours),  478  wagons.  There  are  in  our  company 
over  40  wagons,  making  518  in  all,  and  there  are  said  to  be 
yet  20  behind.  To-morrow  we  cross  the  river,  and,  by  reck- 
oning, will  be  over  200  miles  from  Fort  Laramie,  where  we 
intend  to  stop  and  repair  our  wagon  wheels.  They  are  nearly 
all  loose,  and  I  am  afraid  we  will  have  to  stop  sooner,  if  there 
can  be  found  wood  suitable  to  heat  the  tires.  •  There  is  no 
wood  here,  and  our  women  and  children  are  out  now  gather- 
ing "buffalo  chips"  to  burn,  in  order  to  do  the  cooking. 
These  chips  burn  well. 

Mrs.  George  Donner. 

At  Fort  Laramie  a  portion  of  the  Donner  Party  celebrated 
the  Fourth  of  July,  1846.     Arriving  there  on  the  evening  of 


28  HISTORY    OF   THE    DONN'ER    PARTY. 

the  third,  they  pitched  camp  somewhat  earlier  than  usual, 
and  prepared  a  grand  dinner  for  the  Fourth.  At  the  Fort 
were  a  large  party  of  Sioux  who  were  on  the  war-path 
against  the  Snakes  or  Pawnees.  The  Sioux  were,  perhaps, 
the  most  wariike  Indian  nation  on  the  great  prairies,  and 
when  dressed  in  their  war  paint  and  mounted  on  their  fleet 
ponies,  presented  a  truly  imposing  appearance.  The  utmost 
friendliness  prevailed,  and  there  was  a  mutual  interchange  of 
gifts  and  genial  courtesies.  When  the  Donner  Party  pur- 
sued their  march,  and  had  journeyed  half  a  day  from  the 
Fort,  they  were  overtaken  and  convoyed  quite  a  distance  by 
about  three  hundred  young  warriors.  The  escort  rode  in 
pairs  alongside  the  train  in  true  military  fashion.  Finally 
halting,  they  opened  ranks,  and  as  the  wagons  passed,  each 
warrior  held  in  his  mouth  a  green  twig  or  leaf,  which  was 
said  to  be  emblematic  of  peacefulness  and  good  feeling. 

The  train  was  never  seriously  molested  by  the  Sioux.  On 
one  occasion,  about  fifty  warriors  on  horseback  surrounded 
a  portion  of  the  train,  in  which  was  the  Graves  family. 
While  generally  friendly,  a  few  of  the  baser  sort  persisted  in 
attempting  to  steal,  or  take  by  force,  trivial  articles  which 
struck  their  fancy.  The  main  body  of  Indians  were  en- 
camped about  half  a  mile  away,  and  when  the  annoyances 
became  too  exasperating,  W.  C.  Graves  mounted  a  horse, 
rode  to  the  encampment,  and  notified  the  Chief  of  the  action 
of  his  followers.  Seizing  an  old-fashioned  single-barreled 
shotgun,  the  Chief  sprang  upon  his  horse  and  fairly  flew  over 
the  plain  toward  the  emigrant  wagons.  When  within  about 
a  hundred  yards  of  the  train  he  attracted  attention  by  giving 
an  Indian  whoop,  which  was  so  full  of  rage  and  imprecation 
that  the  startled  warriors  forthwith  desisted  from  their  petty 
persecutions  and  scattered  in  every  direction  like  frightened 
quail.     One  of  the  would-be  marauders  was  a  little  tardy  in 


GEORGE   DONNER    ELECTED   CAPTAIN.  29 

mounting  his  pony,  and  as  soon  as  the  Chief  got  within 
range,  the  shotgun  was  leveled  and  discharged  full  at  the 
unruly  subject.  Three  of  the  buckshot  entered  the  pony's 
side  and  one  grazed  the  warrior's  leg.  As  if  satisfied  that 
his  orders  to  treat  the  emigrants  in  a  friendly  manner  would 
not  be  again  disregarded,  the  Chief  wheeled  his  horse  about, 
and  in  the  most  grave  and  stately  manner  rode  back  to  his 
encampment. 

On  another  occasion,  Mary  Graves,  who  was  a  very  beau- 
tiful young  lady,  was  riding  on  horseback  accompanied  by 
her  brother.  They  were  a  Httle  in  the  rear  of  the  train,  and 
a  band  of  Sioux  Indians,  becoming  enamored  with  the 
maiden,  offered  to  purchase  her.  They  made  very  hand- 
some offers,  but  the  brother  not  being  disposed  to  accept, 
one  of  the  Indians  seized  the  bridle  of  the  girl's  horse  and 
attempted  to  carry  her  away  captive.  Perhaps  the  attempt 
was  made  in  half  jest.  At  all  events  the  bridle  was  promptly 
dropped  when  the  brother  leveled  his  rifle  at  the  savage. 

On  the  twentieth  of  July,  1846,  George  Donner  was  elected 
Captain  of  the  train  at  the  Little  Sandy  River.  From  that 
time  forward  it  was  known  as  the  Donner  Party. 

One  incident,  not  at  all  unusual  to  a  trip  across  the  plains, 
is  pointedly  described  in  a  letter  written  by  C.  T.  Stanton  to 
his  brother,  Sidney  Stanton,  now  of  Cazenovia,  New  York. 
The  incident  alluded  to  is  the  unfriendliness  and  want  of 
harmony  so  liable  to  exist  between  different  companies,  and 
between  members  of  the  same  company.  From  one  of  Mr. 
Stanton's  letters  the  following  extract  is  made : 

"At  noon  we  passed  Boggs'  company  on  the  Sweetwater; 
a  mile  further  up  the  river,  Dunlavy's;  a  mile  further.  West's ; 
and  about  two  miles  beyond  that,  was  Dunbar's.  We  en- 
camped about  half  way  between  the  two  latter.  Thus, 
within  five  miles  were  encamped  five  companies.     At  Indian 


30  HISTORY   OF   THE    CONNER   PARTY. 

Creek,  twenty  miles  from  Independence,  these  five  companies 
all  constituted  one,  but  owing  to  dissensions  and  quarreling 
they  became  broken  into  fragments.  Now,  by  accident,  we 
all  again  once  more  meet  and  grasp  the  cordial  hand ;  old 
enmities  are  forgot,  and  nothing  but  good  feeling  prevails. 
*  *  *  *  *  The  next  morning  we  got  rather  a  late  start, 
owing  to  a  difference  of  opinion  arising  in  our  company  as 
to  whether  we  should  lie  by  or  go  ahead.  Those  wishing 
to  lie  by  were  principally  young  men  who  wished  to  have  a 
day's  hunting  among  the  buffaloes,  and  there  were  also  a  few 
families  out  of  meat  who  wished  to  lay  in  a  supply  before 
they  left  the  buffalo  country.  A  further  reason  was  urged 
that  the  cattle  were  nearly  fagged  out  by  hard  traVel,  and 
that  they  would  not  stand  the  journey  unless  we  stopped 
and  gave  them  rest.  On  the  other  side  it  was  contended 
that  if  we  stopped  here  the  other  companies  would  all  get 
ahead,  the  grass  would  all  be  eaten  off  by  their  thousand 
head  of  cattle,  and  that  consequently,  when  we  came  along, 
our  cattle  would  starve.  The  go-ahead  party  finally  ruled 
and  we  rolled  out." 

As  will  presently  be  seen,  the  dissension  existing  in  the 
company,  and  the  petty  differences  of  opinion  and  interest, 
were  the  fundamental  causes  of  the  calamities  which  befell 
the  Donner  Party. 

When  the  company  was  near  Fort  Bridger,  Edward  Breen's 
leg  was  broken  by  a  fall  from  a  horse.  His  mother  refused 
to  permit  amputation,  or  rather  left  the  question  to  Edward's 
decision,  and  of  course,  boy-like,  he  refused  to  have  the 
operation  performed.  Contrary  to  expectation,  the  bone 
knitted,  and  in  a  month  he  walked  without  a  crutch. 

At  Fort  Bridger,  whicii  was  at  this  time  a  mere  camp  or 
trading  post,  the  party  heard  much  commendation  bestowed 
upon  a  new  route  via  Salt  Lake.      This  route  passed  along 


THE    FATAL   HASTINGS    CUT-OFF.  3I 

the  southern  shore  of  the  Lake,  and  rejoined  the  old  Fort 
Hall  emigrant  road  on  the  Humboldt.  It  was  said  to  shorten 
the  distance  three  hundred  miles.  The  new  route  was  known 
as  the  Hastings  Cut-off,  and  was  named  after  the  famous 
Lansford  W.  Hastings,  who  was  even  then  piloting  a  small 
company  over  the  cut-off.  The  large  trains  delayed  for  three 
or  four  days  at  Fort  Bridger,  debating  as  to  the  best  course 
to  pursue.  It  is  claimed  that  but  for  the  earnest  advice  and 
solicitation  of  Bridger  and  Vasquez,  who  had  charge  of  the 
fort,  the  entire  party  would  have  continued  by  the  accus- 
tomed route.  These  men  had  a  direct  interest  in  the  Hast- 
ings Cut-off,  as  they  furnished  the  emigrants  with  supplies, 
and  had  employed  Hastings  to  pilot  the  first  company  over 
the  road  to  Salt  Lake. 

After  mature  deliberation,  the  party  divided,  the  greater 
portion  going  by  Fort  Hall  and  reaching  California  in  safety. 
With  the  large  train,  which  journeyed  the  old  road,  this  nar- 
rative is  no  longer  interested.  Eighty-seven  persons,  how- 
ever, took  the  Hastmgs  Cut-off.  Their  names  are  included 
in  the  ninety  mentioned  in  the  preceding  chapter,  it  being 
remembered  that  Mrs.  Sarah  Keyes  had  died,  and  that  Lewis 
and  Salvador  were  not  yet  members  of  the  party.  For  sev- 
eral days  the  party  traveled  without  much  difficulty.  They 
reached  Weber  River  near  the  head  of  the  well-known  Weber 
Canyon.  At  the  first  crossing  of  this  river,  on  the  third  of 
August,  they  found  a  letter  from  Hastings  stuck  in  the  split 
of  a  stick,  informing  them  that  the  road  down  the  Weber 
Canyon  was  in  a  terrible  condition,  and  that  it  was  doubtful  if 
the  sixty-six  wagons  which  L.  W.  Hastings  was  then  piloting 
through  the  canyon  would  ever  succeed  in  reaching  the  plain. 
In  the  letter,  Hastings  advised  all  emigrants  to  avoid  the 
canyon  road,  and  pursue  over  the  mountains  a  course  which 
he  faintly  outlined.     In  order  to  obtain  further  information, 


52  HISTORY  OF   THE    DONNER   PARTY. 

and,  if  possible,  to  induce  Hastings  to  return  and  act  as 
guide,  Messrs.  Reed,  Stanton,  and  Pike  were  sent  forward  to 
overtake  the  advance  company.  This  was  accomplished  after 
a  fatiguing  trip,  which  so  exhausted  the  horses  of  Stanton 
and  Pike  that  these  gentlemen  were  unable  to  return  to  the 
Donner  Party.  Hastings  was  overtaken  at  a  point  near  the 
southern  end  of  Great  Salt  Lake,  and  came  back  with  Reed 
to  the  foot  of  the  bluffs  overlooking  the  present  city  of  Salt 
Lake.  Here  he  declared  that  he  must  return  to  the  company 
he  was  piloting,  and  despite  the  urgent  entreaties  of  Reed, 
decided  that  it  was  his  duty  to  start  back  the  next  morning. 
He  finally  consented,  however,  to  ascend  to  the  summit  of 
the  Wahsatch  Mountains,  from  which  he  endeavored,  as  best 
he  could,  to  point  out  the  direction  in  which  the  wagons 
must  travel  from  the  head  of  Weber  Canyon.  Reed  pro- 
ceeded alone  on  the  route  indicated,  taking  notes  of  the 
country  and  occasionally  blazing  trees  to  assist  him  in  re- 
tracing the  course. 

Wm.  G.  Murphy  (now  of  Marysville,  Gal.)  says  that  the  wag- 
ons remained  in  the  meadows  at  the  head  of  Weber  Ganyon 
until  Reed's  return.  They  then  learned  that  the  train  which 
preceded  them  had  been  compelled  to  travel  very  slowly  down 
the  Weber  River,  filling  in  many  irregular  places  with  brush 
and  dirt;  that  at  last  they  had  reached  a  place  where  vast 
perpendicular  pillars  of  rock  approached  so  closely  on  either 
side  that  the  river  had  barely  space  to  flow  between,  and  just 
here  the  water  plunged  over  a  precipice.  To  lower  the  wag- 
ons down  this  precipice  had  been  a  dreadful  task. 

The  Donner  Party  unanimously  decided  to  travel  across 
the  mountains  in  a  more  direct  line  toward  Salt  Lake.  They 
soon  found  rolling  highlands  and  small  summit  valleys  on 
the  divide  between  Weber  River  and  Salt  Lake.  Following 
down  one  of  the  small  streams,  they  found  a  varying,  irregu 


FIRST    VIEW    OF   GREAT    SALT   LAKE.  33 

lar  canyon,  down  which  they  passed,  filling  its  small  stream 
with  brush  and  rocks,  crossing  and  recrossing  it,  making 
roads,  breaking  and  mending  wagons,  until  three  weeks'  time 
had  expired.  The  entire  country  was  heavily  covered  with 
timber  and  underbrush.  When  the  party  arrived  at  the  out- 
let of  this  stream  into  Salt  Lake  Valley,  they  found  it  utterly 
impassable.  It  was  exceedingly  narrow,  and  was  filled  with 
huge  rocks  from  the  cliffs  on  either  side.  Almost  all  the 
oxen  in  the  train  were  necessary  in  drawing  each  wagon  out 
of  the  canyon  and  up  the  steep  overhanging  mountain. 
While  in  this  canyon,  Stanton  and  Pike  came  up  to  the  com- 
pany. These  gentlemen  encountered  great  hardships  after 
their  horses  gave  out,  and  were  almost  starved  to  death  when 
they  reached  the  train. 

Instead  of  reaching  Salt  Lake  in  a  week,  as  had  been 
promised,  the  party  were  over  thirty  days  in  making  the  trip. 
No  words  can  describe  what  they  endured  on  this  Hastings 
Cut-off.  The  terrible  delay  was  rendering  imminent  the  dan- 
gers which  awaited  them  on  the  Sierra  Nevada.  At  last, 
upon  ascending  the  steep  rugged  mountain  before  mentioned, 
the  vision  of  Great  Salt  Lake,  and  the  extensive  plains  sur- 
rounding it,  burst  upon  their  enraptured  gaze.  All  were  wild 
with  joy  and  gratitude  for  their  deliverance  from  the  terrible 
struggle  through  which  they  had  just  passed,  and  all  hoped 
for  a  prosperous,  peaceful  journey  over  pleasant  roads  through- 
out the  remainder  of  the  trip  to  California.  Alas!  there  were 
trials  in  the  way  compared  with  which  their  recent  struggles 
were  insignificant.  But  for  the  fatal  delay  caused  by  the 
Hastings  Cut-off,  all  would  have  been  well,  but  now  the  sum- 
mer was  passed,  their  teams  and  themselves  were  well-nigh 
exhausted,  and  their  slender  stock  of  provisions  nearly  con- 
sumed. 


Chapter  III. 


A  Grave  of  Salt — Members  of  the  Mystic  Tie — Twenty  Wells — A  Desolate 
Alkaline  Waste — Abandoned  on  the  Desert — A  Night  of  Horror — A  Steer 
Maddened  by  Thirst — The  Mirage — Yoking  an  Ox  and  a  Cow — "Cacheing" 
Goods — The  Emigrant's  Silent  Logic — A  Cry  for  Relief — Two  Heroic  Vol- 
unteers— A  Perilous  Journey — Letters  to  Capt.  Sutter. 


EAR  the  southern  shore  of  great  Salt  Lake  the  Don- 
^  ner  Party  encamped  on  the  third  or  fourth  of  Sep- 


tember, 1 846.  The  summer  had  vanished,  and  autumn 
had  commenced  tinting,  with  crimson  and  gold,  the 
fohage  on  the  Wahsatch  Mountains.  While  en- 
camped here,  the  party  buried  the  second  victim  claimed  by 
death.  This  time  it  was  a  poor  consumptive  named  Luke  Hal- 
loran.  Without  friend  or  kinsman,  Halloran  had  joined  the 
train,  and  was  traveling  to  California  in  hopes  that  a  change 
of  climate  might  effect  a  cure.  Alas!  for  the  poor  Irishman, 
when  the  leaves  began  to  fall  from  the  trees  his  spirit  winged 
its  flight  to  the  better  land.  He  died  in  the  wagon  of  Cap- 
tain George  Donner,  his  head  resting  in  Mrs.  Tamsen  Bon- 
ner's lap.  It  was  at  sundown.  The  wagons  had  just  halted 
for  the  night.  The  train  had  driven  up  slowly,  out  of  respect 
to  the  dying  emigrant.  Looking  up  into  Mrs.  Donner's  face, 
he  said:  "I  die  happy."  Almost  while  speaking,  he  died. 
In  return  for  the  many  kindnesses  he  had  received  during  the 


TWENTY    WELLS.  35 

journey,  he  left  Mr.  Donner  such  property  as  he  possessed, 
including  about  fifteen  hundred  dollars  in  coin.  Hon.  Jas.  F. 
Breen,  of  South  San  Juan,  writes :  "  Halloran's  body  was 
buried  in  a  bed  of  almost  pure  salt,  beside  the  grave  of  one 
who  had  perished  in  the  preceding  train.  It  was  said  at  the 
time  that  bodies  thus  deposited  would  not  decompose,  on  ac- 
count of  the  preservative  properties  of  the  salt.  Soon  after 
his  burial,  his  trunk  was  opened,  and  Masonic  papers  and 
regalia  bore  witness  to  the  fact  that  Mr.  Halloran  was  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Masonic  Order.  James  F.  Reed,  Milton  Elliott, 
and  perhaps  one  or  two  others  in  the  train,  also  belonged  to 
the  mystic  tie." 

On  the  sixth  day  of  September  they  reached  a  meadow  in 
a  valley  called  "  Twenty  Wells,"  as  there  were  that  number  of 
wells  of  various  sizes,  from  six  inches  to  several  feet  in  diam- 
eter. The  water  in  these  wells  rose  even  with  the  surface 
of  the  ground,  and  when  it  was  drawn  out  the  wells  soon  re- 
filled. The  water  was  cold  and  pure,  and  peculiarly  welcome 
after  the  saline  plains  and  alkaline  pools  they  had  just  passed. 
Wells  similar  to  these  were  found  during  the  entire  journey 
of  the  following  day,  and  the  country  through  which  they 
were,  passing  abounded  in  luxuriant  grass.  Reaching  the 
confines  of  the  Salt  Lake  Desert,  which  lies' southwest  of  the 
lake,  they  laid  in,  as  they  supposed,  an  ample  supply  of  water 
and  grass.  This  desert  had  been  represented  by  Bridger  and 
Vasquez  as  being  only  about  fifty  miles  wide.  Instead,  for  a 
distance  of  seventy-five  miles  there  was  neither  water  nor 
grass,  but  everywhere  a  dreary,  desolate,  alkaline  waste. 
Verily,  it  was 

"A  region  of  drought,  where  no  river  glides, 
Nor  rippling  brook  with  osiered  sides; 
Where  sedgy  pool,  nor  bubbling  fount, 
Nor  tree,  nor  cloud,  nor  misty  mount 


36  HISTORY    OF   THE    DONNER    PARTY. 

Appears  to  refresh  the  aching  eye, 
But  the  barren  earth  and  the  burning  sky, 
And  the  blank  horizon  round  and  round 
Spread,  void  of  living  sight  or  sound." 

When  the  company  had  been  on  the  desert  two  nights  and 
one  day,  Mr.  Reed  volunteered  to  go  forward,  and,  if  possible, 
to  discover  water.  His  hired'teamsters  were  attending  to  his 
teams  and  wagons  during  his  absence.  At  a  distance  of  per- 
haps twenty  miles  he  found  the  desired  water,  and  hastened 
to  return  to  the  train.  Meantime  there  was  intense  suffering 
in  the  party.  Cattle  were  giving  out  and  lying  down  help- 
lessly on  the  burning  sand,  or  frenzied  with  thirst  were 
straying  away  into  the  desert.  Having  made  preparations  for 
only  fifty  miles  of  desert,  several  persons  came  near  perish- 
ing of  thirst,  and  cattle  were  utterly  powerless  to  draw  the 
heavy  wagons.  Reed  was  gone  some  twenty  hours.  Dur- 
ing this  time  his  teamsters  had  done  the  wisest  thing  possi- 
ble, unhitched  the  oxen  and  started  to  drive  them  ahead  until 
water  was  reached.  It  was  their  intention,  of  course,  to  re- 
turn and  get  the  three  wagons  and  the  family,  which  they  had 
necessarily  abandoned  on  the  desert.  Reed  passed  his  team- 
sters during  the  night,  and  hastened  to  the  relief  of  his 
deserted  family.  One  of  his  teamster's  horses  gave  out  be- 
fore morning  and  lay  down,  and  while  the  man's  companions 
were  attempting  to  raise  him,  the  oxen,  rendered  unmanage- 
able by  their  great  thirst,  disappeared  in  the  desert.  There 
were  eighteen  of  these  oxen.  It  is  probable  they  scented 
water,  and  with  the  instincts  of  their  nature  started  out  to 
search  for  it.  They  never  were  found,  and  Reed  and  his  fam- 
ily, consisting  of  nine  persons,  were  left  destitute  in  the  midst 
of  the  desert,  eight  hundred  miles  from  California.  Near 
morning,  entirely  ignorant  of  the  calamity  which  had  be- 
fallen him  in  the  loss  of  his  cattle,  he  reached  his  family. 


A    NIGHT   OF    HORROR.  37 

All  day  long  they  looked  and  waited  in  vain  for  the  return- 
ing teamsters.  All  the  rest  of  the  company  had  driven 
ahead,  and  the  majority  had  reached  water.  Toward  night 
the  situation  grew  desperate.  The  scanty  supply  of  water 
left  with  the  family  was  almost  gone,  and  another  day  on  the 
desert  would  mean  death  to  all  he  held  dear.  Their  only  way 
left  was  to  set  out  on  foot.  He  took  his  youngest  child  in 
his  arms,  and  the  family  started  to  walk  the  twenty  miles, 
i  During  this  dreadful  night  some  of  the  younger  children  be- 
'  came  so  exhausted  that,  regardless  of  scoldings  or  encourage- 
ments, they  lay  down  on  the  bleak  sands.  Even  rest,  how- 
ever, seemed  denied  the  little  sufferers,  for  a  chilling  wind  be- 
gan sweeping  over  the  desert,  and  despite  their  weariness  and 
anguish,  they  were  forced  to  move  forward.  At  one  time 
during  the  night  the  horror  of  the  situation  was  changed  to 
intense  fright.  Through  the  darkness  came  a  swift-rushing 
animal,  which  Reed  soon  recognized  as  one  of  his  young 
steers.  It  was  crazed  and  frenzied  with  thirst,  and  for  some 
moments  seemed  bent  upon  dashing  into  the  frightened 
group.  Finally,  howeva,  it  plunged  madly  away  into  the 
night,  and  was  seen  no  mere.  Reed  suspected  the  calamity 
which  had  prevented  the  return  of  the  teamsters,  but  at  the 
moment,  the  imminent  peril  surrounding  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren banished  all  thought  of  wonying  about  anything  but 
their  present  situation.  God  knows  what  would  have  be- 
come of  them  had  they  not,  soon  after  daylight,  discovered 
the  wagon  of  Jacob  Donner.  They  were  received  kindly  by 
his  family,  and  conveyed  to  where  the  other  members  of  the 
party  were  camped.  For  six  or  eight  days  the  entire  com- 
pany remained  at  this  spot.  Every  effort  was  made  to  find 
Reed's  lost  cattle.  Almost  every  man  in  the  train  was  out  in 
the  desert,  searching  in  all  directions.  This  task  was  at- 
tended with  both  difficulty  and  danger;    for  when  the  sun 

293435 


•38  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER   PARTY. 

shone,  the  atmosphere  appeared  to  distort  and  magnify  ob- 
jects so  that  at  the  distance  of  a  mile  every  stone  or  bush 
would  appear  the  size  of  an  ox.  Several  of  the  men  came 
near  dying  for  want  of  water  during  this  search.  The  desert 
mirage  disclosed  against  the  horizon,  clear,  distinct,  and  per- 
fectly outHned  rocks,  mountain  peaks,  and  tempting  lakelets. 
Each  jagged  cliff,  or  pointed  rock,  or  sharply-curved  hill-top, 
hung  suspended  in  air  as  perfect  and  complete  as  if  photo- 
graphed on  the  sky.  Deceived,  deluded  by  these  mirages, 
in  spite  of  their  better  judgment,  several  members  of  the 
company  were  led  far  out  into  the  pathless  depths  of  the 
desert. 

The  outlook  for  Reed  was  gloomy  enough.  One  cow  and 
one  ox  were  the  only  stock  he  had  remaining.  The  com- 
pany were  getting  exceedingly  impatient  over  the  long  delay, 
yet  be  it  said  to  their  honor,  they  encamped  on  the  western 
verge  of  the  desert  until  every  hope  of  finding  Reed's  cattle 
was  abandoned.  Finally,  F.  W.  Graves  and  Patrick  Breen 
each  lent  an  ox  to  Mr.  Reed,  and  by  yoking  up  his  remain- 
ing cow  and  ox,  he  had  two  yoke  of  cattle.  "  Cacheing,"  or 
concealing  such  of  his  property  on  the  desert,  as  could  not 
be  placed  in  one  wagon,  he  hitched  the  two  yoke  of  cattle  to 
this  wagon  and  proceeded  on  the  journey.  The  word  cache 
occurs  so  frequently  in  this  history  that  a  brief  definition  of 
the  interesting  process  of  cacheing  might  not  be  amiss.  The 
cache  of  goods  or  valuables  was  generally  made  in  a  wagon 
bed,  if  one,  as  in  the  present  instance,  was  to  be  abandoned. 
A  square  hole,  say  six  feet  in  depth,  was  dug  in  the  earth, 
and  in  the  bottom  of  this  the  box  or  wagon  bed  containing 
the  articles  was  placed.  Sand,  soil,  or  clay  of  the  proper 
stratum  was  filled  in  upon  this,  so  as  to  just  cover  the  box 
from  sight.  The  ground  was  then  tightly  packed  or  tram- 
pled, to  make  it  resemble,  as  much  as  possible,  the  earth  in  its 


TWO    HEROIC    VOLUNTEERS.  39 

natural  state.  Into  the  remaining  hole  would  be  placed  such 
useless  articles  as  could  be  spared,  such  as  old  tins,  cast-off 
clothing,  broken  furniture,  etc.,  and  upon  these  the  earth  was 
thrown  until  the  surface  of  the  ground  was  again  level. 
These  precautions  were  taken  to  prevent  the  Indians  from 
discovering  and  appropriating  the  articles  cached.  It  was 
argued  that  the  Indians,  when  digging  down,  would  come  to 
the  useless  articles,  and  not  thinking  there  was  treasure  fur- 
ther down  would  abandon  the  task.  "But,"  says  Hon.  James 
F.  Breen,  in  speaking  on  this  subject,  "  I  have  been  told  by 
parties  who  have  crossed  the  plains,  that  in  no  case  has  the 
Indian  been  deceived  by  the  emigrant's  silent  logic."  The 
Indians  would  leave  nothing  underground,  not  even  the  dead 
bodies  buried  from  time  to  time.  One  of  the  trains  in  ad- 
vance of  the  Donner  Party  buried  two  men  in  one  grave,  and 
succeeding  parties  found  each  of  the  bodies  unearthed,  and 
were  compelled  to  repeat  the  last  sad  rites  of  burial. 

Before  the  Donner  Party  started  from  the  Desert  camp,  an 
inventory  of  the  provisions  on  hand  was  accurately  taken, 
and  an  estimate  was  made  of  the  quantity  required  for  each 
family,  and  it  was  found  that  there  was  not  enough  to  carry 
the  emigrants  through  to  California.  As  if  to  render  more 
emphatic  the  terrible  situation  of  the  party,  a  storm  came 
during  their  last  night  at  the  camp,  and  in  the  morning  the 
hill-tops  were  white  with  snow.  It  was  a  dreadful  reminder 
of  the  lateness  of  the  season,  and  the  bravest  hearts  quailed 
before  the  horrors  they  knew  must  await  them.  A  solemn 
council  was  held.  It  was  decided  that  some  one  must  leave 
the  train,  press  eagerly  forward  to  California,  and  obtaining 
a  supply  of  provisions,  return  and  meet  the  party  as  far  back 
on  the  route  as  possible.  It  was  a  difficult  undertaking,  and 
perilous  in  the  extreme.  A  call  was  made  for  volunteers,  and 
after  a  little  reflection  two  men  offered  their  services.     One 


40  HISTORY   (H-"    THE    CONNER   PARTY. 

was  Wm.  McCutchen,  who  had  joined  the  train  from  Mis- 
souri, and  the  other  was  C.  T.  Stanton,  of  Chicago,  a  man 
who  afterwards  proved  himself  possessed  of  the  subHmest 
heroism.  Taking  each  a  horse,  they  received  the  tearful, 
prayerful  farewells  of  the  doomed  company,  and  set  out 
upon  their  solitary  journey. 

Would  they  return?  If  they  reached  the  peaceful,  golden 
valleys  of  California,  would  they  turn  back  to  meet  danger, 
and  storms,  and  death,  in  order  to  bring  succor  to  those  on 
the  dreary  desert?  McCutchen  might  come,  because  he  left 
dear  ones  with  the  train,  but  would  Stanton  return  ?  Stanton 
was  young  and  unmarried.  There  were  no  ties  or  obliga- 
tions to  prompt  his  return,  save  his  plighted  word  and  the 
dictates  of  honor  and  humanity. 

They  bore  letters  from  the  Donner  Party  to  Captain  Sut- 
ter, who  was  in  charge  at  Sutter's  Fort.  These  letters  were 
prayers  for  relief,  and  it  was  believed  would  secure  assistance 
from  the  generous  old  Captain.  Every  eye  followed  Stanton 
and  McCutchen  until  they  disappeared  in  the  v/est.  Soon 
afterward  the  train  resumed  its  toilsome  march. 


Chapter  IV. 


Gravelly  Ford — The  Character  of  James  F.  Reed — Causes  Which  Led  to  the 
Reed-Snyder  Tragedy — ^John  Snyder's  Popularity — The  Fatal  Altercation — 
Conflicting  Statements  of  Survivors — Snyder's  Death — A  Brave  Girl — A 
Primitive  Trial — A  Court  of  Final  Resort — Verdict  of  Banishment — A  Sad 
Separation — George  and  Jacob  Donner  Ahead  at  the  Time — Finding  Letters 
in  Split  Sticks — Danger  of  Starvation. 

^RAVELLY  FORD,  on  the  Humboldt  River,  wit- 
nessed a  tragedy  which  greatly  agitated  the  com- 
pany. Its  results,  as  will  be  seen,  materially  affected 
the  lives  not  only  of  the  participants,  but  of  several 
members  of  the  party  during  the  days  of  horror  on 
the  mountains,  by  bringing  relief  which  would  otherwise 
have  been  lacking.  The  parties  to  the  tragedy  were  James 
F.  Reed  and  John  Snyder.  Reed  was  a  man  who  was 
tender,  generous,  heroic,  and  whose  qualities  of  true  nobility 
shone  brilliantly  throughout  a  long  life  of  usefulness.  His 
name  is  intimately  interwoven  with  the  history  of  the  Don- 
ner Party,  from  first  to  last.  Indeed,  in  the  Illinois  papers  of 
1846-7  the  company  was  always  termed  the  "Reed  and 
Donner  Party."  This  title  was  justly  conferred  at  the  time, 
because  he  was  one  of  the  leading  spirits  in  the  organization 
of  the  enterprise.  In  order  to  understand  the  tragedy  which 
produced  the  death  of  John  Snyder,  and  the  circuinstances 


42  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER   PARTY. 

resulting  therefrom,  the  reader  must  become  better  acquainted 
with  the  character  of  Mr.  Reed. 

The  following  brief  extract  is  from  "  Powers'  Early  Settlers 
of  Sangamon  County:"  "James  Frazier  Reed  was  born 
November  14,  1800,  in  County  Armagh,  Ireland.  His  an- 
cestors were  of  noble  Polish  birth,  who  chose  exile  rather 
than  submission  to  the  Russian  power,  and  settled  in  the 
north  of  Ireland.  The  family  name  was  originally  Reed- 
noski,  but  in  process  of  time  the  Polish  termination  of  the 
name  was  dropped,  and  the  family  was  called  Reed.  James 
F.  Reed's  mother's  name  was  Frazier,  whose  ancestors  be- 
longed to  Clan  Frazier,  of  Scottish  history.  Mrs.  Reed  and 
her  son,  James  F.,  came  to  America  when  he  was  a  youth, 
iand  settled  in  Virginia.  He  remained  there  until  he  was 
twenty,  when  he  left  for  the  lead  mines  of  Illinois,  and  was 
engaged  in  mining  until  1831,  when  he  came  to  Springfield, 
Sangamon  County,  Illinois." 

Among  the  papers  of  Mr.  Reed  is  a  copy  of  the  muster 
roll  of  a  company  which  enlisted  in  the  Blackhawk  war,  and 
in  this  roll  are  the  names  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  Stephen  A. 
Douglas,  and  James  F.  Reed.  At  the  termination  of  this 
war,  Mr.  Reed  returned  to  Springfield,  engaged  in  the  manu- 
facture of  cabinet  furniture,  and  amassed  a  considerable 
fortune.  He  was  married  in  1835  to  Mrs.  Margaret  Back- 
enstoe,  whose  maiden  name  was  Keyes.  The  death  of  his 
wife's  mother,  Mrs.  Sarah  Keyes,  has  already  been  men- 
tioned as  occurring  on  the  Big  Blue  River,  near  Manhattan, 
Kansas. 

During  the  progress  of  the  train,  Mr.  Reed  was  always 
a  prominent,  active  member.  Full  of  life  and  enthusiasm, 
fearless  of  danger,  he  was  ready  at  all  times  to  risk  his  life 
for  the  company's  welfare.     On  the  desert,  we  have  seen  that 


THE    CHARACTER    OF  JAMES    F.    REED.  43 

his  lonely  expedition  in  search  of  water  cost  him  his  valuable 
oxen,  and  left  him  and  his  family  almost  destitute. 

The  deplorable  affair  about  to  be  narrated  was  only  the 
natural  outgrowth  of  the  trying  circumstances  in  which  the 
company  were  placed.  The  reader  must  bear  in  mind  that 
many  petty  causes  combined  to  produce  discord  and  dis- 
sension among  the  members  of  the  Donner  Party.  Coming 
from  so  many  different  States,  being  of  different  nationalities 
and  modes  of  thought,  delayed  on  the  road  much  longer 
than  was  expected,  rendered  irritable  by  the  difficulties  en- 
countered on  the  journey,  annoyed  by  losses  of  stock,  fearful 
of  unknown  disasters  on  the  Sierra,  and  already  placed  on 
short  allowances  of  provisions,  the  emigrants  were  decidedly 
inharmonious. 

The  action  of  the  company,  moreover,  was  doubtless  in- 
fluenced in  a  greater  or  less  degree  by  Snyder's  popularity. 
A  young  man,  not  over  twenty-three  years  old,  he  was  tall, 
straight,  and  of  erect,  manly  carriage,  and  his  habits  of  life 
as  a  frontiersman  had  developed  him  into  a  muscular,  athletic 
being.  He  excelled  and  led  in  all  the  out-door  sports  most 
in  favor  with  Western  men,  such  as  jumping,  running,  and 
wrestling.  His  manner  was  gentle,  retired,  and  timid  to  a 
degree  verging  on  bashfulness,  until  roused  by  the  influence 
of  passion.  The  lion  in  the  man  was  dormant  until  evoked 
by  the  fiercer  emotions.  His  complexion  was  dark,  but  as 
you  studied  his  face  you  could  not  repress  the  suspicion  that 
Nature  had  marked  him  for  a  blonde,  and  that  constant  ex- 
posure to  the  wind  and  sun  and  rain  of  the  great  plains  of 
the  West  had  wrought  the  color  change,  and  the  conviction 
was  strong  that  the  change  was  an  improvement  on  Nature, 
His  features  were  cast  in  a  mold  of  great  beauty  —  such 
beauty  as  we  seldom  look  for  in  a  man.  He  was  never 
moody,  despondent,    or   cast   down,  and   at   all    times,  and 


44  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   PART\', 

under  all  circumstances,  possessed  the  faculty  of  amusing 
himself  and  entertaining  others.  In  the  evening  camp,  when 
other  amusements  failed,  or  when  anticipated  troubles  de- 
pressed the  spirits  of  the  travelers,  it  was  his  custom  to 
remove  the  "hindgate"  of  his  wagon,  lay  it  on  the  ground, 
and  thereon  perform  the  "clog  dance,"  "Irish  jigs,"  the 
"  pigeon  wing,"  and  other  fantastic  steps.  Many  an  evening 
the  Donner  Party  were  prevented  from  brooding  over  their 
troubles  by  the  boyish  antics  of  the  light-hearted  youth. 

As  stated  above,  the  train  had  reached  Gravelly  Ford. 
Already  the  members  of  the  company  were  beginning  to 
scan  eagerly  the  western  plain  in  hopes  of  discovering  the 
relief  which  it  was  believed  Stanton  and  McCutchen  would 
bring  from  Sutter's  Fort.  Of  course  there  were  the  usual 
accidents  and  incidents  peculiar  to  a  journey  across  the 
plains.  Occasionally  a  wagon  would  need  repairing.  Occa- 
sionally there  would  be  a  brief  halt  to  rest  and  recruit  the 
jaded  cattle.  The  Indians  had  stolen  two  of  Mr.  Graves' 
oxen,  and  a  couple  of  days  later  had  stolen  one  of  the 
horses. 

In  traveling,  the  Donner  Party  observed  this  rule ;  If  a 
wagon  drove  in  the  lead  one  day,  it  should  pass  back  to  the 
rear  on  the  succeeding  day.  This  system  of  alternating 
allowed  each  his  turn  in  leading  the  train.  On  this  fifth  of 
October,  1846,  F.  W.  Graves  was  ahead.  Jay  Fosdick  second, 
John  Snyder  third,  and  the  team  of  J.  F.  Reed  fourth. 
Milton  Elliott  was  driving  Reed's  team.  Arriving  at  the 
foot  of  a  steep,  sandy  hill,  the  party  was  obliged  to  "  double 
teams,"  that  is,  to  hitch  five  or  six  yoke  of  oxen  to  one 
wagon.  Elliott  and  Snyder  interchanged  hot  words  over 
some  difficulty  about  the  oxen.  Fosdick  had  attached  his 
team  to  Graves'  and  had  drawn  Graves'  wagon  up  the  hill. 
Snyder,  being  nettled  at  something  Elliott  had  said,  declared 


THE  BREEN  FAMIY 

I     PATRICK,  Si.  2.  MARGARET.         3.  JONN.         4.  ED^ 

6.  SIMON  P.        7.  JAMES  F.        H.   PETER.        9.  BELL.. 


,r.         3.  JONN.         4.  EDWARD   p.         5.  PATRICK,  Jr. 

JAMES  F.        H.   PETER.        9.  BELLA  M.         10.  WILLIAM  M. 


THE    FATAL   ALTERCATION.  45 

that  his  team  could  pull  up  alone.  During  the  excitement 
Snyder  made  use  of  very  bad  language,  and  was  beating  his 
cattle  over  the  head  with  his  whip-stock.  One  account  says 
that  Reed's  team  and  Snyder's  became  tangled.  At  all 
events,  Snyder  was  very  much  enraged.  Reed  had  been  off 
hunting  on  horseback,  and  arriving  at  this  moment,  remon- 
strated with  Snyder  for  beating  the  cattle,  and  at  the  same 
time  offered  him  the  assistance  of  his  team.  Snyder  refused 
the  proffered  aid,  and  used  abusive  language  toward  both 
Reed  and  Elliott.  Reed  attempted  to  calm  the  enraged  man. 
Both  men  were  of  fiery,  passionate  dispositions,  and  words 
began  to  multiply  rapidly.  When  Reed  saw  that  trouble 
was  likely  to  occur,  he  said  something  about  waiting  until 
they  got  up  the  hill  and  settling  this  matter  afterwards. 
Snyder  evidently  construed  this  to  be  a  threat,  and  with  an 
oath  replied,  "We  will  settle  it  now."  As  Snyder  uttered 
these  words,  he  struck  Reed  a  blow  on  the  head  with  the 
butt-end  of  his  heavy  whip-stock.  This  blow  was  followed 
in  rapid  succession  by  a  second,  and  a  third.  As  the  third 
stroke  descended,  Mrs.  Reed  ran  between  her  husband  and 
the  furious  man,  hoping  to  prevent  the  blow.  Each  time  the 
whip-stock  descended  on  Reed's  head  it  cut  deep  gashes. 
He  was  blinded  with  the  blood  which  streamed  from  his 
wounds,  and  dazed  and  stunned  by  the  terrific  force  of  the 
blows.  He  saw  the  cruel  whip-stock  uplifted,  and  knew 
that  his  wife  was  in  danger,  but  had  only  time  to  cry  "  John ! 
John  !"  when  down  came  the  stroke  full  upon  Mrs.  Reed's 
head  and  shoulders.  The  next  mstant  John  Snyder  was 
staggering,  speechless  and  death-stricken.  Reed's  hunting- 
knife  had  pierced  his  left  breast,  severing  the  first  and  second 
ribs  and  entering  the  left  lung. 

No  other  portion  of  the  History  of  the  Donner  Party,  as 
contributed  by  the  survivors,  has  been   so  variously  stated 


46  HISTORY   OF    THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

as  this  Reed-Snyder  affair.  Five  members  of  the  party,  now 
living,  claim  to  have  been  eye-witnesses.  The  version  of 
two  of  these,  Mrs.  J.  M.  Murphy  and  Mrs.  Frank  Lewis,  is 
the  one  here  published.  In  the  theory  of  self-defense  they 
are  corroborated  by  all  the  early  published  accounts.  This 
theory  was  first  advanced  in  Judge  J.  Quinn  Thornton's 
work  in  1849,  and  has  never  been  disputed  publicly  until 
within  the  last  two  or  three  years.  Due  deference  to  the 
valuable  assistance  rendered  by  Wm.  G.  Murphy,  of  Marys- 
villc,  and  W.  C.  Graves,  of  Calistoga,  demands  mention  of 
the  fact  that  their  accounts  differ  in  important  respects  from 
the  one  given  above.  This  is  not  surprising  in  view  of  the 
thirty-three  years  which  have  elapsed  since  the  occurrence. 
The  history  of  criminal  jurisprudence  justifies  the  assertion 
that  eye-witnesses  of  any  fatal  difficulty  differ  materially  in 
regard  to  important  particulars,  even  when  their  testimony  is 
taken  immediately  after  the  difficulty.  It  is  not  strange, 
therefore,  that  after  the  lapse  of  an  ordinary  life-time  a  dozen 
different  versions  should  have  been  contributed  by  the  sur- 
vivors concerning  this  unfortunate  tragedy.  James  F.  Reed, 
after  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century  of  active  public  life  in 
California,  died  honored  and  respected.  During  his  life-time 
this  incident  appeared  several  times  in  print,  and  was  always 
substantially  as  given  in  this  chapter.  With  the  single  ex- 
ception of  a  series  of  articles  contributed  to  the  Healdsburg 
Flag  by  W.  C.  Graves,  two  or  three  years  ago,  no  different 
account  has  ever  been  published.  This  explanatory  digres- 
sion from  the  narrative  is  deemed  necessary  out  of  respect  to 
the  two  gentlemen  who  conscientiously  disagree  with  Mrs. 
Murphy  and  Mrs.  Lewis.  On  all  other  important  subjects 
the  survivors  arc  harmonious  or  reconcilable. 

W.  C.  Graves,  now  of  Calistoga,  caught  the  dying  man  in 
his  arms,  and  in  a  few  minutes  he  was  carried  a  little  way  up 


SNYDER S    DEATH.  47 

the  hill  and  laid  upon  the  ground.  Reed  immediately  re- 
gretted the  act  and  threw  the  knife  from  him.  His  wife  and 
daughters  gathered  about  him  and  began  to  stanch  the 
blood  that  flowed  from  the  gashes  on  his  head.  He  gently 
pushed  them  aside  and  went  to  the  assistance  of  the  dying 
man.  He  and  Snyder  had  always  been  firm  friends,  and 
Snyder  had  been  most  active  in  securing  a  team  for  Reed 
after  the  latter  had  lost  his  cattle  in  the  desert.  Snyder 
expired  in  about  fifteen  minutes,  and  Reed  remained  by  his 
side  until  the  last.  Patrick  Breen  came  up,  and  Snyder  said, 
"  Uncle  Patrick,  I  am  dead."  It  is  not  certain  that  he  spoke 
again,  though  Reed's  friends  claim  that  he  said  to  Reed,  "  I 
am  to  blame." 

Snyder's  death  fell  like  a  thunderbolt  upon  the  Donner 
Party.  Camp  was  immediately  pitched,  the  Reed  family 
being  a  little  removed  down  the  hill  from  the  main  body 
of  emigrants.  Reed  felt  that  he  had  only  acted  in  defense 
of  his  own  life  and  in  defense  of  the  wife  he  adored.  Never- 
theless, it  was  evident  that  trouble  was  brewing  in  the  main 
camp  where  Snyder's  body  was  lying. 

The  Reed  family  were  in  a  sad  situation.  They  commenced 
the  journey  with  a  more  costly  and  complete  outfit  than  the 
other  emigrants,  and  thereby  had  incurred  the  envy  of  some 
of  their  less  fortunate  companions.  They  had  a  fine  race 
horse  and  good  stock,  and  Virginia  had  a  beautiful  pony  of 
her  own,  and  was  fond  of  accompanying  her  father  on  his 
horseback  excursions.  From,  these  and  other  circumstances 
the  Reeds  had  acquired  the  name  of  being  "aristocratic." 
Ordinarily,  this  is  a  term  which  would  excite  a  smile,  but 
on  this  dreadful  day  it  had  its  weight  in  inflaming  the  minds 
of  the  excited  emigrants.  On  the  desert  Reed  had  cached 
many  valuable  articles,  but  all  his  provisions  had  been  dis- 
tributed among  his  companions.     This,  however,  was  forgot- 


48  HISTORY   OF   THE   CONNER   PARTY, 

ten  in  the  turbulent  camp,  and  the  destitute,  desolate  family 
could  plainly  catch  the  sound  of  voices  clamoring  for  Reed's 
death. 

Meantime,  Virginia  Reed  was  dressing  the  wounds  on  her 
father's  head.  Mrs.  Reed  was  overwhelmed  with  grief  and 
apprehension,  and  the  father  came  to  Virginia  for  assistance. 
This  brave  little  woman  was  only  twelve  years  old,  yet  in  this 
and  all  other  acts  of  which  there  is  a  record  she  displayed  a 
nerve  and  skillfulness  which  would  have  done  credit  to  a 
mature  woman.  The  cuts  in  Reed's  scalp  were  wide  and 
deep.  Indeed,  the  scars  remained  to  his  dying  day.  In  San 
Jose,  long  years  afterwards,  as  James  F.  Reed  lay  dead,  the 
gentle  breeze  from  an  open  window  softly  lifted  and  caressed 
his  gray  hair,  disclosing  plainly  the  scars  left  by  these  ugly 
wounds. 

Reed  entertained  none  but  the  friendliest  sentiments  toward 
Snyder.  Anxious  to  do  what  he  could  for  the  dead,  he  of- 
fered the  boards  of  his  wagon-bed  from  which  to  make  a 
coffin  for  Snyder.  This  offer,  made  with  the  kindliest,  most 
delicate  feeling,  was  rejected  by  the  emigrants.  At  the 
funeral.  Reed  stood  sorrowfully  by  the  grave  until  the  last 
clod  was  placed  above  the  man  who  had  been  one  of  his  best 
friends.  A  council  was  held  by  the  members  of  the  company. 
A  council  to  decide  upon  Reed's  fate.  It  was  in  the  nature 
of  a  court,  all-powerful,  from  whose  decision  there  was  no 
appeal.  Breathlessly  the  fond  wife  and  affectionate  children 
awaited  the  verdict.  The  father  was  idolized  by  the  mother 
and  the  little  ones,  and  was  their  only  stay  and  support. 

The  friendship  of  the  Donner  Party  for  John  Snyder,  the 
conflicting  and  distorted  accounts  of  the  tragedy,  and  the 
personal  enmity  of  certain  members  of  the  company  toward 
Reed,  resulted  in  a  decree  that  he  should  be  banished  from 
the  train.     The  feeling  ran  so  high  that  at  one  time  the  end 


VERDICT    OF    DANISH MENT.  49 

of  a  wagon-tongue  was  propped  up  with  an  ox-yokc  b\' 
some  of  the  emigrants  with  the  intention  of  hanging  Reed 
thereon,  but  calmer  counsel  prevailed. 

When  the  announcement  was  communicated  to  Reed  that 
he  was  to  be  banished,  he  refused  to  comply  with  the  de- 
cree. Conscious  that  he  had  only  obeyed  the  sacred  law  of 
self-defense,  he  refused  to  accede  to  an  unjust  punishment. 
Then  came  the  wife's  pleadings!  Long  and  earnestly  Mrs. 
Reed  reasoned  and  begged  and  prayed  with  her  husband. 
All  was  of  no  avail  until  she  urged  him  to  remember  the 
want  and  destitution  in  which  they  and  the  entire  company 
were  already  participants.  If  he  remained  and  escaped  vio- 
lence at  the  hands  of  his  enemies,  he  might  nevertheless  see 
his  children  starve  before  his  eyes,  and  be  helpless  to  aid 
them.  But  if  he  would  go  forward,  if  he  would  reach  Cal- 
ifornia, he  could  return  with  provisions,  and  meet  them  on 
the  mountains  at  that  point  on  the  route  where  they  would 
be  in  greatest  need.  It  was  a  fearful  struggle,  but  finally  the 
mother's  counsels  prevailed.  Prior  to  setting  out  upon  his 
gloomy  journey,  Mr.  Reed  made  the  company  promise  to 
care  for  his  family. 

At  the  time  of  the  Snyder  tragedy,  George  and  Jacob  Don- 
ner,  with  their  wagons  and  families,  were  two  days  in  ad- 
vance of  the  main  train.  Walter  Herron  was  with  them, 
and,  when  Reed  came  up,  Herron  concluded  to  accompany 
him  to  California. 

It  was  contemplated  that  Reed  should  go  out  into  the 
wilderness  alone,  and  with  neither  food  nor  ammunition. 
Happily  this  part  of  the  programme  was  thwarted.  The 
faithful  Virginia,  in  company  with  Milton  Elliott,  fol- 
lowed Mr.  Reed  after  he  had  started,  and  carried  him  his 
gun  and  ammunition.  The  affectionate  girl  also  managed 
4 


50  HISTORY   OF  THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

to  carry  some  crackers  to  him,  although  she  and  all  the  com- 
pany were  even  then  on  short  allowance. 

The  sad  parting  between  Reed  and  his  family,  and  the 
second  parting  with  the  devoted  Virginia,  we  pass  over  in 
silence.  James  F.  Reed,  Jr.,  only  five  years  old,  declared 
that  he  would  go  with  his  father,  and  assist  him  in  obtain- 
ing food  during  the  long  journey.  Even  the  baby,  only 
two  and  a  half  years  old,  would  fret  and  worry  every  time 
the  family  sat  down  to  their  meals,  lest  father  should  find 
nothing  to  eat  on  his  difficult  way.  Every  day  the  mother 
and  daughters  would  eagerly  search  for  the  letter  Mr.  Reed 
was  sure  to  leave  in  the  top  of  some  bush,  or  in  a  split  stick 
by  the  wayside.  When  he  succeeded  in  killing  geese  or 
ducks,  as  he  frequently  did  along  the  Humboldt  and 
Truckee,  he  would  scatter  the  feathers  about  his  camping- 
ground,  that  his  family  might  see  that  he  was  supplied  with 
food.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  mention  that  Mrs.  Reed  and 
the  children  regarded  the  father's  camping-places  as  hal- 
lowed ground,  and  as  often  as  possible  kindled  their  evening 
fires  in  the  same  spot  where  his  had  been  kindled. 

But  a  day  came  when  they  found  no  more  letters,  no  fur- 
ther traces  of  the  father.  Was  he  dead  ?  Had  the  Indians 
killed  him?  Had  he  starved  by  the  way?  No  one  could 
answer,  and  the  mother's  cheek  grew  paler  and  her  dear  eyes 
grew  sadder  and  more  hopeless,  until  Virginia  and  Patty 
both  feared  that  she,  too,  was  going  to  leave  them. 
Anxious,  grief-stricken,  filled  with  the  belief  that  her  hus- 
band was  dead,  poor  Mrs.  Reed  was  fast  dying  of  a  broken 
heart.  But  suddenly  all  her  life,  and  energy,  and  determina- 
tion were  again  aroused  into  being  by  a  danger  that  would 
have  crushed  a  nature  less  noble.  A  danger  that  is  the 
most  terrible,  horrible,  that  ever  tortured  human  breast;  a 
danger — that  her  children,  her  babes,  must  starve  to  death! 


Chapter  V. 


Great  Hardships — The  Sink  of  the  Humboldt — Indians  Stealing  Cattle — An  En- 
tire Company  Compelled  to  Walk — Abandoned  to  Die — Wolfinger  Murdered 
— Rhinehart's  Confession — Arrival  of  C.  T.  Stanton — A  Temporary  Relief — 
A  Fatal  Accident — The  Sierra  Nevada  Mountains — Imprisoned  in  Snow — 
Struggles  for  Freedom — A  Hopeless  Situation — Digging  for  Cattle  in  Snow 
— Howr  the  Breen  Cabin  Happened  to  be  Built — A  Thrilling  Sketch  of  a 
Solitary  Winter — Putting  up  Shelters — The  Donners  have  Nothing  but 
Tents — Fishing  for  Trout. 


STARVATION  now  stared  the  emigrants  in  the 
face.  The  shortest  allowance  capable  of  supporting 
life  was  all  that  was  portioned  to  any  member  of  the 
company.  At  times,  some  were  forced  to  do  without 
food  for  a  day  or  more,  until  game  was  procured. 
The  poor  cattle  were  also  in  a  pitiable  condition.  Owing 
to  the  lateness  of  the  season,  the  grass  was  exceedingly 
scanty  and  of  a  poor  quality.  Frequently  the  water  was 
bad,  and  filled  with  alkali  and  other  poisonous  deposits. 
George  Donner,  Jacob  Donner,  Wolfinger,  and  others,  lost 
cattle  at  various  points  along  the  Humboldt.  Mr.  Breen  lost 
a  fine  mare.  The  Indians  were  constantly  hovering  around 
the  doomed  train,  ready  to  steal  cattle,  but  too  cowardly  to 
make  any  open  hostile  attack.  Arrows  were  shot  into  sev- 
eral of  the  oxen  by  Indians  who  slipped  up  near  them  during 
the  night-time.     At  midnight,  on  the  twelfth  of  October,  the 


52  HISTORY   OF   THE   CONNER    PARTY. 

party  reached  the  sink  of  the  Humboldt.  The  cattle,  closely 
guarded,  were  turned  out  to  graze  and  recruit  their  wasted 
strength.  About  dawn  on  the  morning  of  the  thirteenth  the 
guard  came  into  camp  to  breakfast.  During  the  night  noth- 
ing had  occurred  to  cause  the  least  apprehension,  and  no 
indications  of  Indians  had  been  observed.  Imagine  the  con- 
sternation in  camp  when  it  was  discovered  that  during  the 
temporary  absence  of  the  guard  twenty-one  head  of  cattle 
had  been  stolen  by  the  redskins.  This  left  the  company  in 
terribly  destitute  circumstances.  All  had  to  walk  who  were 
able.  Men,  women,  and  children  were  forced  to  travel  on 
foot  all  day  long,  and  in  many  cases  were  compelled  to  carry 
heavy  burdens  in  order  to  lessen  the  loads  drawn  by  the 
weary  cattle.  Wm.  G.  Murphy  remembers  distinctly  seeing 
his  brother  carrying  a  copper  camp-kettle  upon  his  head. 
The  Graves  family,  the  Breens,  the  Donners,  the  Murphys, 
the  Reeds,  all  walked  beside  the  wagons  until  overpowered 
with  fatigue.  The  men  became  exhausted  much  sooner,  as 
a  rule,  than  the  women.  Only  the  sick,  the  little  children, 
and  the  utterly  exhausted,  were  ever  allowed  to  ride.  Eddy 
and  his  wife  had  lost  all  their  cattle,  and  each  carried  one  of 
their  children  and  such  personal  effects  as  they  were  able. 
Many  in  the  train  were  without  shoes,  and  had  to  travel 
barefooted  over  the  weary  sands,  and  flinty,  sharp-edged 
stones. 

On  the  ninth  of  October  a  death  had  resulted  from  this 
necessity  of  having  to  walk.  It  was  a  case  of  desertion, 
which,  under  other  circumstances,  would  have  been  unpar- 
donably  heartless.  An  old  man  named  Hardcoop  was  travel- 
ing with  Keseberg.  He  was  a  cutler  by  trade,  and  had  a  son 
and  daughter  in  the  city  of  Antwerp,  in  Belgium.  It  is  said 
he  owned  a  farm  near  Cincinnati,  Ohio,  and  intended,  after 
visiting  California,  to  dispose  of  this  farm,  and  with  the  pro- 


A   THRILLING    SKETCH.  53 

ceeds  return  to  Antwerp,  for  the  purpose  of  spending  his 
dechning  years  with  his  children.  He  was  a  man  of  nearly 
three-score  years,  and  the  hardships  of  the  journey  had 
weakened  his  trembling  limbs  and  broken  down  his  health. 
Sick,  feeble,  helpless  as  he  was,  this  old  man  was  compelled 
to  walk  with  the  others.  At  last,  when  his  strength  gave 
way,  he  was  forced  to  lie  down  by  the  roadside  to  perish  of 
cold  and  hunger.  Who  can  picture  the  agony,  the  horror, 
the  dreary  desolation  of  such  a  death  ?  The  poor  old  man 
walked  until  his  feet  actually  burst ! — walked  until  he  sank 
utterly  exhausted  by  the  roadside  !  It  was  a  terrible  death  ! 
To  see  the  train  disappear  in  the  distance;  to  know  he  was 
abandoned  to  die  of  exposure  and  starvation ;  to  think  that 
the  wolves  would  devour  his  flesh  and  gnaw  his  bones ;  to 
lie  down  on  the  great  desert,  hungry,  famished,  and  com- 
pletely prostrated  by  fatigue — to  meet  death  thus  is  too 
dreadful  to  contemplate. 

No  one  made  any  attempt  to  return  and  find  the  poor  old 
fellow.  This,  however,  is  partially  excused  by  the  over- 
whelming dangers  which  now  threatened  the  entire  com- 
pany. Each  hour's  delay  rendered  death  in  the  Sierra  Nevada 
Mountains  more  imminent. 

About  the  fourteenth  of  October,  beyond  the  present  site 
of  Wadsworth,  another  tragedy  occurred.  Wolfinger,  who 
was  supposed  to  be  quite  wealthy,  was  in  the  rear  of  the 
train,  traveling  with  Keseberg.  At  nightfall,  neither  of  the 
Germans  made  his  appearance.  It  happened  that  both 
their  wives  had  walked  ahead,  and  were  with  the  emigrants. 
Considering  it  suspicious  that  the  men  did  not  arrive,  and 
fearing  some  evil  had  befallen  them,  a  party  returned  to  as- 
certain the  cause  of  the  delay.  Before  proceeding  far,  how- 
ever, Keseberg  was  met  traveling  leisurely  along.  He  as- 
sured them  that  Wolfinger  was  only  a  little  way  behind,  and 


54 


HIS'JORY   OF   THE    DONNER   PARTY. 


would  be  along  in   a  few  moments.     Reassured  by  this  in- 
formation, the   party  returned  with  Keseberg  to  camp  and 
awaited  the  arrival  of  Wolfinger.     The  night  passed,  and  the 
missing  man  had  not  appeared.     Mrs.  Wolfinger  was  nearly 
frantic.     She  was  a  tall,  queenly-looking  lady,  of  good  birth 
and  much  refinement.     She  was  recently  from  Germany,  and 
understood  but  little  English,  yet  she  was  evidently  a  well- 
bred  lady.     Nearly  all  the  survivors  remember  the  elegant 
dresses  and  costly  jewelry  she  wore  during  the  first  part  of 
the  journey.     Her  grief  at  her  husband's  disappearance  was 
so  heart-rending  that  three  young  men  at  last  consented  to 
start  back  in  the  morning  and  endeavor  to  find  Wolfinger. 
W.  C.  Graves,  from  whom  this  information  is  obtained,  was 
one  of  the  three  who  returned.     Five  miles  back  the  wagon 
was  found  standing  in  the  road.     The  oxen  had    been  un- 
hitched, but  were  still   chained   together,  and  were  quietly 
grazing  at  a  little  distance.     There  were  no  signs  of  Indians, 
but  Wolfinger  was  not   to  be   found.     At   the  time  it  was 
strongly  conjectured  that  Keseberg  had  murdered  Wolfinger 
for  his  money,  and  had  concealed  the  body.     This  was  doubt- 
less unjust,  for  when  Joseph  Rhinehart  was  dying,  some  weeks 
later,  in  George  Donner's  tent,  he  confessed  that  he  (Rhine- 
hart)  had  something  to  do  with  the  murder  of  Wolfinger. 
The  men  hitched  the  oxen  to  the  wagon,  and  drove  on  until 
they  overtook  the  emigrants,  who,  owing  to  the  dangers  by 
which  they  were  encompassed,  felt  compelled  to  pursue  their 
onward  journey.     The   team  was  given  to    Mrs.  Wolfinger, 
and  she  employed  a  German  by  the  name  of  Charles  Burger 
to  drive  it  thereafter.     Little  was  said  about  the  affair  at  the 
time.     Mrs.  Wolfinger  supposed  the  Indians  had  killed  her 
husband. 

On  the  nineteenth  of  October,  C.  T.  Stanton  was  met  re- 
turning with  provisions.     The  company  was  near  the  present 


TEMPORARY   RELIEF.  55 

town  of  Wadsworth,  Nevada.  A  great  rejoicing  was  held 
over  the  brave  man's  return.  McCutchen  had  been  severely 
ill,  and  was  unable  to  return  with  Stanton.  But  the  latter, 
true  to  his  word,  recrossed  the  Sierra,  and  met  the  emi- 
grants at  a  time  when  they  were  on  the  verge  of  starva- 
tion. He  had  brought  seven  mules,  five  of  which  were 
loaded  with  flour  and  dried  beef.  Captain  Sutter  had  fur- 
nished these  mules  and  the  provisions,  together  with  two 
Indian  vaqueros,  without  the  slightest  compensation  or  secur- 
ity. The  Indians,  Lewis  and  Salvador,  would  assist  in  caring 
for  the  pack-animals,  and  would  also  be  efficient  guides. 
Without  Stanton's  aid  the  entire  party  would  have  been  lost; 
not  a  single  soul  would  have  escaped.  The  provisions, 
though  scant,  were  sufficient  to  entirely  alter  the  situation 
of  affairs.  Had  the  party  pressed  immediately  forward, 
they  could  have  passed  the  summits  before  the  storms  be- 
gan. For  some  cause,  however,  it  was  concluded  to  rest  the 
cattle  for  a  few  days  near  the  present  site  of  Reno,  prepara- 
tory to  attempting  to  ascend  the  difficult  Sierra.  Three  or 
four  days'  time  was  lost.  This  loss  was  fatal.  The  storms 
on  the  mountains  generally  set  in  about  Thanksgiving,  or 
during  the  latter  days  of  November.  The  emigrants  trusted 
that  the  storm  season  of  1846  would  not  begin  earlier  than 
usual.  Alas!  the  terrible  consequences  of  this  mistaken 
trust! 

After  the  arrival  of  Stanton,  it  was  still  deemed  necessary 
to  take  further  steps  for  the  relief  of  the  train.  The  gen- 
erosity of  Captain  Sutter,  as  shown  to  Stanton,  warranted 
them  in  believing  that  he  would  send  still  further  supplies  to 
the  needy  emigrants.  Accordingly,  two  brothers-in-law,  Wil- 
liam Foster  and  William  Pike,  both  brave  and  daring  spirits, 
volunteered  to  go  on  ahead,  cross  the  summits,  and  return 
with  provisions  as  Stanton  had  done.     Both  men  had  fam- 


$6  HISTORY   OF  THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

ilies,  and  both  were  highly  esteemed  in  the  company.  At  the 
encampment  near  Reno,  Nevada,  while  they  were  busily  pre- 
paring to  start,  the  two  men  were  cleaning  or  loading  a  pistol. 
It  was  an  old-fashioned  "  pepper-box."  It  happened,  while 
theywere  examining  it,  that  wood  was  called  for  to  replenish 
the  fire.  One  of  the  men  offered  to  procure  it,  and  in  order 
to  do  so,  handed  the  pistol  to  the  other.  Everybody  knows 
that  the  "pepper-box"  is  a  very  uncertain  weapon.  Some- 
how, in  the  transfer,  the  pistol  was  discharged.  William  Pike 
was  fatally  wounded,  and  died  in  about  twenty  minutes.  Mrs. 
Pike  was  left  a  widow,  with  two  small  children.  The  young- 
est, Catherine,  was  a  babe  of  only  a  few  months  old,  and 
Naomi  was  only  three  years  of  age.  The  sadness  and  dis- 
tress occasioned  by  this  mournful  accident,  cast  a  gloom  over 
the  entire  company,  and  seemed  an  omen  of  the  terrible  fate 
which  overshadowed  the  Donner  Party. 

Generally,  the  ascent  of  the  Sierra  brought  joy  and  glad- 
ness to  weary  overland  emigrants.  To  the  Donner  Party  it 
brought  terror  and  dismay.  The  company  had  hardly  ob- 
tained a  glimpse  of  the  mountains,  ere  the  winter  storm 
clouds  began  to  assemble  their  hosts  around  the  loftier  crests. 
Every  day  the  weather  appeared  more  ominous  and  threaten- 
ing. The  delay  at  the  Truckee  Meadows  had  been  brief,  but 
every  day  ultimately  cost  a  dozen  lives.  On  the  twenty-third 
of  October,  they  became  thoroughly  alarmed  at  the  angry 
heralds  of  the  gathering  storm,  and  with  all  haste  resumed 
the  journey.  It  was  too  late!  At  Prosser  Creek,  three  miles 
below  Truckee,  they  found  themselves  encompassed  with  six 
inches  of  snow.  On  the  summits,  the  snow  was  from  two  to 
five  feet  in  depth.  This  was  October  28,  1846.  Almost  a 
month  earlier  than  usual,  the  Sierra  had  donned  its  mantle  of 
ice  and  snow.  The  party  were  prisoners.  All  was  con- 
sternation.    The  wildest  confusion  prevailed.    In  their  eager- 


STRUGGLES  FOR  FREEDOM.  57 

ness,  many  went  far  in  advance  of  the  main  train.  There 
was  Httle  concert  of  action  or  harmony  of  plan.  All  did  not 
arrive  at  Donner  Lake  the  same  day.  Some  wagons  and 
families  did  not  reach  the  lake  until  the  thirty-first  day  of 
October,  some  never  went  further  than  Prosser  Creek,  while 
others,  on  the  evening  of  the  twenty-ninth,  struggled  through 
the  snow,  and  reached  the  foot  of  the  precipitous  cliffs  be- 
tween the  summit  and  the  upper  end  of  the  lake.  Here, 
baffled,  wearied,  disheartened,  they  turned  back  to  the  foot 
of  the  lake. 

Several  times  during  the  days  which  succeeded,  parties  at- 
tempted to  cross  the  mountain  barrier.  W.  C.  Graves  says 
the  old  emigrant  road  followed  up  Cold  Stream,  and  so 
crossed  the  dividing  ridge.  Some  wagons  were  drawn  up 
this  old  road,  almost  to  the  top  of  the  pass,  others  were  taken 
along  the  north  side  of  Donner  Lake,  and  far  up  toward  the 
summit.  Some  of  these  wagons  never  were  returned  to  the 
lake,  but  were  left  imbedded  in  the  snow.  These  efforts  to 
cross  the  Sierra  were  quite  desultory  and  irregular,  and  there 
was  great  lack  of  harmony  and  system.  Each  family  or 
each  little  group  of  emigrants  acted  independently. 

At  last,  one  day,  a  determined  and  systematic  attempt  was 
made  to  cross  the  summit.  Nearly  the  entire  train  was  en- 
gaged in  the  work.  The  road,  of  course,  was  entirely  oblit- 
erated by  the  snow.  Guided  only  by  the  general  contour  of 
the  country,  all  hands  pressed  resolutely  forward.  Here, 
large  bowlders  and  irregular  jutting  cliffs  would  intercept  the 
way;  there,  dizzy  precipices,  yawning  chasms,  and  deep,  ir- 
regular canyons  would  interpose,  and  anon  a  bold,  impassable 
mountain  of  rock  would  rear  its  menacing  front  directly 
across  their  path.  All  day  long  the  men  and  animals  floun- 
dered through  the  snow,  and  attempted  to  break  and  trample 
a  road.     Just  before  nightfall  they  reached  the  abrupt  preci- 


58  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

pice  where  the  present  wagon-road  intercepts  the  snow-sheds 
of  the  Central  Pacific.  Here  the  poor  mules  and  oxen  had 
been  utterly  unable  to  find  a  foothold  on  the  slippery,  snow- 
covered  rocks.  All  that  day  it  had  been  raining  slightly — a 
dismal,  drizzling,  discouraging  rain.  Most  of  the  wagons 
had  been  left  at  the  lake,  and  the  mules  and  oxen  had  been 
packed  with  provisions  and  necessary  articles.  Even  at  this 
day  some  of  the  survivors  are  unable  to  repress  a  ripple  of 
merriment  as  they  recall  the  manner  in  which  the  oxen 
bucked  and  bellowed  when  the  unaccustomed  packs  were 
strapped  upon  their  backs.  Stanton  had  stoutly  insisted 
upon  taking  the  mules  over  the  mountains.  Perhaps  he  did 
not  wish  to  return  to  Capt.  Sutter  without  the  property  which 
he  had  borrowed.  Many  in  the  train  dissented  from  this 
proposition,  and  endeavored  to  induce  the  Indians,  Lewis  and 
Salvador,  to  leave  Stanton,  and  guide  them  over  the  summits. 
The  Indians  realized  the  imminent  danger  of  each  hour's 
delay,  and  would  probably  have  yielded  to  the  solicitations 
of  these  disaffected  parties,  had  not  Stanton  made  them  be- 
lieve that  Capt.  Sutter  would  hang  them  if  they  returned  to 
the  Fort  without  the  mules.  This  incident  is  mentioned  to 
illustrate  the  great  differences  of  opinion  and  interest  which 
prevailed.  Never,  from  the  moment  the  party  encountered 
the  first  difficulties  on  the  Hastings  Cut-off  until  this  fatal 
night  in  November,  did  the  members  of  the  company  ever 
agree  upon  any  important  proposition.  This  night  all  de- 
cided upon  a  plan  for  the  morrow.  The  great  and  over- 
whelming danger  made  them  forget  their  petty  animosities, 
and  united  them  in  one  harmonious  resolve.  On  the  mor- 
row the  mules  and  cattle  were  all  to  be  slain,  and  the  meat 
was  to  be  stored  away  for  future  emergency.  The  wagons, 
with  their  contents,  were  to  be  left  at  the  lake,  and  the  entire 
party  were  to  cross  the  summits  on  foot.     Stanton  had  be- 


A    HOPELESS   SITUATION.  59 

come  perfectly  satisfied  that  the  mules  could  not  reach  the 
mountain-top,  and  readily  consented  to  the  proposed  plan. 

Returning  to  the  lake  they  sought  their  weary  couches, 
comforted  with  the  thought  that  to-morrow  should  see  all 
the  Donner  Party  safely  over  the  summit.  That  night  a 
heavy  snow  fell  at  the  lake.  It  was  a  night  of  untold  terror ! 
The  emigrants  suffered  a  thousand  deaths.  The  pitiless 
snow  came  down  in  large,  steady  masses.  All  understood 
that  the  storm  meant  death.  One  of  the  Indians  silently 
wrapped  his  blanket  about  him  and  in  deepest  dejection 
seated  himself  beside  a  tall  pine.  In  this  position  he  passed 
the  entire  night,  only  moving  occasionally  to  keep  from 
being  covered  with  snow.  Mrs.  Reed  spread  down  a  shawl, 
placed  her  "four  children,  Virginia,  Patty,  James,  and  Thomas, 
thereon,  and  putting  another  shawl  over  them,  sat  by  the 
side  of  her  babies  during  all  the  long  hours  of  darkness. 
Every  little  while  she  was  compelled  to  lift  the  upper  shawl 
and  shake  off  the  rapidly  accumulating  snow. 

With  slight  interruptions,  the  storm  continued  several  days. 
The  mules  and  oxen  that  had  always  hovered  about  camp 
were  blinded  and  bewildered  by  the  storm,  and  straying 
away  were  literally  buried  alive  in  the  drifts.  What  pen  can 
describe  the  horror  of  the  position  in  which  the  emigrants 
found  themselves !  It  was  impossible  to  move  through  the 
deep,  soft  snow  without  the  greatest  effort.  The  mules  were 
gone,  and  were  never  found.  Most  of  the  cattle  had  per- 
ished, and  were  wholly  hidden  from  sight.  The  few  oxen 
which  were  found  were  slaughtered  for  beef.  All  were  not 
killed  during  any  one  day,  but  the  emigrants  gave  this  busi- 
ness their  immediate  attention,  because  aside  from  the  beef 
and  a  few  slight  provisions,  the  entire  pa^y  were  completely 
destitute.  Mrs.  Breen  was  compelled  to  attend  personally  to 
the  slaughtering  of  their  cattle,  because  her  husband  was  an 


60  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER   PARTY. 

invalid.  This  family  had  by  far  the  largest  stock  of  meat. 
Too  great  praise  can  not  be  ascribed  to  Mrs.  Breen  for  the 
care  and  forethought  with  which  she  stored  up  this  food  for 
her  children.  The  meat  was  simply  laid  away  in  piles,  like 
cordwood,  and  by  the  action  of  the  frost  was  kept  fresh  until 
consumed.  Mrs.  Reed  had  no  cattle  to  kill.  She  succeeded, 
however,  in  purchasing  two  beeves  from  Mr.  Graves,  and  two 
from  Mr.  Breen,  pledging  herself  to  pay  when  the  journey 
was  ended.     Mr.  Eddy  also  purchased  one  ox  of  Mr.  Graves. 

The  flesh  of  many  of  the  cattle  which  strayed  away,  and 
were  buried  several  feet  under  the  snow,  was  nevertheless  re- 
covered by  their  owners.  It  was  soon  ascertained  that  the 
cattle  had  endeavored  to  seek  shelter  from  the  fury  of  the 
storm  by  getting  under  the  branches  of  the  bushiest  trees. 
Going  to  these  trees,  the  emigrants  would  thrust  down  long 
poles  with  sharpened  nails  in  the  ends  of  them.  By  thus 
probing  about  in  the  snow,  the  whereabouts  of  a  number  of 
cattle  was  discovered,  and  the  bodies  were  speedily  dug  out 
of  the  drifts. 

Realizing  that  the  winter  must  be  passed  in  the  mountains, 
the  emigrants  made  such  preparations  as  they  could  for 
shelter.  One  cabin  was  already  constructed.  It  was  located 
about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  below  the  foot  of  the  lake.  It  had 
been  built  in  November,  1844,  by  Moses  Schallenberger, 
Joseph  Foster,  and  Allen  Montgomery.  Moses  Schallen- 
berger now  resides  three  and  a  half  miles  from  San  Jose,  and 
when  recently  interviewed  by  Mrs.  S.  O.  Houghton,  n^e  Eliza 
P.  Donner,  gave  a  very  complete  and  interesting  account  of 
the  building  of  this  cabin,  and  the  sufferings  endured  by  his 
party.  This  cabin,  known  as  the  Breen  cabin,  is  so  intimately 
connected  and  interwoven  with  future  chapters  in  the  History 
of  the  Donner  Party,  that  the  following  items,  taken  from  Mr 
Schallenberger's  narration,  can  not  prove  uninteresting: 


PUTTING   UP    SHELTERS. 


6f 


"  Mr.  Schallenberger's  party  reached  Donner  Lake  about 
the  middle  of  November,  1844,  having  with  them  a  large 
quantity  of  goods  for  California.  Their  cattle  being  very 
poor,  and  much  fatigued  by  the  journey,  the  party  decided 
to  remain  here  long  enough  to  build  a  cabin  in  which  to 
store  their  goods  until  spring.  They  also  decided  to  leave 
some  one  to  look  after  their  stores,  while  the  main  portion 
of  the  party  would  push  on  to  the  settlement.  Foster, 
Montgomery,  and  Schallenberger  built  the  cabin.  Two  days 
were  spent  in  its  construction.  It  was  built  of  pine  saplings, 
and  roofed  with  pine  brush  and  rawhides.  It  was  twelve  by 
fourteen  feet,  and  seven  or  eight  feet  high,  with  a  chimney 
in  one  end,  built  "western  style."  One  opening,  through 
which  light,  air,  and  the  occupants  passed,  served  as  a  window 
and  door.  A  heavy  fall  of  snow  began  the  day  after  the 
cabin  was  completed  and  continued  for  a  number  of  days. 
Schallenberger,  who  was  only  seventeen  years  old,  volun- 
teered to  remain  with  Foster  and  Montgomery.  The  party 
passed  on,  leaving  very  little  provisions  for  the  encamped. 
The  flesh  of  one  miserably  poor  cow  was  their  main  depend- 
ence, yet  the  young  men  were  not  discouraged.  They  were 
accustomed  to  frontier  life,  and  felt  sure  they  could  provide 
for  themselves.  Bear  and  deer  seemed  abundant  in  the  sur- 
rounding mountains.  Time  passed ;  the  snow  continued 
falling,  until  it  was  from  ten  to  fifteen  feet  deep.  The  cow 
was  more  than  half  consumed,  and  the  game  had  been  driven 
out  of  the  mountains  by  the  storms. 

"The  sojourners  in  that  lonely  camp  became  alarmed  at 
the  prospect  of  the  terrible  fate  which  seemed  to  threaten 
them,  and  they  determined  to  find  their  way  across  the  moun- 
tains. They  started  and  reached  the  summit  the  first  night 
after  leaving  their  camp.  Here,  young  Schallenberger  was 
taken  ill  with  severe  cramps.     The  following  day  he  was  un- 


6b  history  of  the  donner  party. 

able  to  proceed  more  than  a  few  feet  without  falling  to  the 
ground.  It  was  evident  to  his  companions  that  he  could  go 
no  farther.  They  did  not  like  to  leave  him,  nor  did  they 
wish  to  remain  where  death  seemed  to  await  them.  Finally 
Schallenberger  told  them  if  they  would  take  him  back  to  the 
cabin  he  would  remain  there  and  they  could  go  on.  This 
they  did,  and  after  making  him  as  comfortable  as  possible, 
they  bade  him  good-by,  and  he  was  left  alone  in  that  moun- 
tain wild.  A  strong  will  and  an  unflinching  determination  to 
live  through  all  the  threatening  dangers,  soon  raised  him 
from  his  bed  and  nerved  him  to  action.  He  found  some  steel 
traps  among  the  goods  stored,  and  with  them  caught  foxes, 
which  constituted  his  chief  or  only  article  of  food,  until  res- 
cued by  the  returning  party,  March  i,  1845." 

The  Breen  family  moved  into  the  Schallenberger  cabin. 
Against  the  west  side  of  this  cabin,  Keseberg  built  a  sort  of 
half  shed,  into  which  he  and  his  family  entered.  The  Mur- 
phys  erected  a  cabin  nearer  the  lake.  The  site  of  this  cabin 
is  plainly  marked  by  a  large  stone  about  ten  or  twelve  feet 
high,  one  side  of  which  rises  almost  perpendicularly  from  the 
ground.  Against  this  perpendicular  side  the  Murphys  erected 
the  building  which  was  to  shelter  them  during  the  winter. 
It  was  about  three  hundred  yards  from  the  shore  of  Donner 
Lake,  and  near  the  wide  marshy  outlet.  The  Breen  and 
Murphy  cabins  were  distant  from  each  other  about  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  yards.  The  Graves  family  built  a  house  close 
by  Donner  Creek,  and  half  or  three  quarters  of  a  mile  further 
down  the  stream.  Adjoining  this,  forming  a  double  cabin, 
the  Reeds  built.  The  Donner  brothers,  Jacob  and  George, 
together  with  their  families,  camped  in  Alder  Creek  Valley, 
six  or  seven  miles  from  Donner  Lake.  They  were,  if  possi- 
ble, in  a  worse  condition  than  the  others,  for  they  had  only 
brush  sheds  and  their  tents  to  shield  them  from  the  wintry 


I 

FISHING   FOR   TROUT.  63 

weather.  Mrs.  John  App  (Leanna  C.  Donner),  of  James- 
town, Tuolumne  County,  writes:  "We  had  no  time  to  build 
a  cabin.  The  snow  came  on  so  suddenly  that  we  had  barely 
time  to  pitch  our  tent,  and  put  up  a  brush  shed,  as  it  were, 
one  side  of  which  was  open.  This  brush  shed  was  covered 
with  pine  boughs,  and  then  covered  with  rubber  coats,  quilts, 
etc.  My  uncle,  Jacob  Donner,  and  family,  also  had  a  tent, 
and  camped  near  us." 

Crowded  in  their  ill-prepared  dwellings,  the  emigrants 
could  not  feel  otherwise  than  gloomy  and  despondent.  The 
small  quantity  of  provisions  became  so  nearly  exhausted  that 
it  is  correct  to  say  they  were  compelled  to  live  on  meat  alone, 
without  so  much  as  salt  to  give  it  a  relish.  There  was  an 
abundance  of  beautiful  trout  in  the  lake,  but  no  one  could 
catch  them.  W.  C.  Graves  tells  how  he  went  fishing  two  or 
three  different  times,  but  without  success.  The  lake  was  not 
frozen  over  at  first,  and  fish  were  frequently  seen ;  but  they 
were  too  coy  and  wary  to  approach  such  bait  as  was  offered. 
Soon  thick  ice  covered  the  water,  and  after  that  no  one  at- 
tempted to  fish.  In  fact,  the  entire  party  seemed  dazed  by  the 
terrible  calamity  which  had  overtaken  them. 


Chapter  VI. 


Endeavors  to  Cross  the  Mountains — Discouraging  Failures — Eddy  Kills  a  Bear 
— Making  Snow-Shoes — Who  Composed  the  "Forlorn  Hope" — Mary  /„ 
Graves — An  Irishman — A  Generous  Act — Six  Days'  Rations — Mary  Graves 
Account — Snow-Blind — C.  T.  Stanton's  Death — "I  am  Coming  Soon" — 
Sketch  of  Stanton's  Early  Life — His  Charity  and  Self-Sacrifice — The  Dia- 
mond Breastpin — Stanton's  Last  Poem. 


^LL  knew  that  death  speedily  awaited  the  entire 
company  unless  some  could  cross  over  the  mountain 
'f-^^T^^  barrier  and  hasten  back  relief  parties.  Out  of  the  list 
of  ninety  persons  mentioned  in  the  first  chapter,  only 
Mrs.  Sarah  Keyes,  Halloran,  Snyder,  Hardcoop, 
Wolfinger,  and  Pike  had  perished,  and  only  three,  Messrs. 
Reed,  Herron,and  McCutchen,  had  reached  California.  This 
left  eighty-one  persons  at  the  mountain  camps.  It  was  resolved 
that  at  the  earliest  possible  moment  the  strongest  and  ablest  of 
the  party  should  endeavor  to  cross  the  summits  and  reach  the 
settlements.  Accordingly,  on  the  twelfth  of  November,  a 
party  of  twelve  or  fifteen  persons  set  out  from  the  cabins. 
It  was  found  impossible,  however,  to  make  any  considerable 
headway  in  the  soft,  deep  snow,  and  at  midnight  they  re- 
turned to  the  cabins.  They  had  not  succeeded  in  getting 
more  than  a  mile  above  the  head  of  the  lake.  In  this  party 
were    Mr.  F.  W.  Graves   and    his   two   daughters,    Mary  A. 


UlSCOUKAGIN'G    IWl LUKES.  G5 

Graves,  and  Mrs.  Sarah  Fosdick.  The  rest,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Jay  Fosdick  and  Wm.  H.  Eddy,  were  young,  un- 
married men,  as,  for  instance,  Stanton,  Smith,  Spitzer,  Elliott, 
Antoine,  John  Baptiste,  and  the  two  Indians.  It  was  com- 
paratively a  trifling  effort,  but  it  seemed  to  have  the  effect  of 
utterly  depressing  the  hopes  of  several  of  these  men.  With 
no  one  in  the  camps  dependent  upon  them,  without  any  ties 
of  relationship,  or  bonds  of  affection,  these  young  men  were 
the  first  to  attempt  to  escape  from  their  prison  walls  of  snow. 
Failing  in  this,  many  of  them  never  again  rallied  or  made  a 
struggle  for  existence.  Not  so,  however,  with  those  who 
were  heads  of  families.  A  gun  was  owned  by  William 
Foster,  and  with  it,  on  the  fourteenth  of  November,  three 
miles  north  of  Truckee,  near  the  present  Alder  Creek  Mill, 
Mr.  Eddy  succeeded  in  killing  a  bear.  This  event  inspired 
many  hearts  with  courage;  but,  alas  !  it  was  short-lived.  No 
other  game  could  be  found  except  two  or  three  wild  ducks. 
What  were  these  among  eighty-one  people !  Mr.  F.  W. 
Graves  was  a  native  of  Vermont,  and  his  boyhood  days  had 
been  spent  in  sight  of  the  Green  Mountains.  Somewhat 
accustomed  to  snow,  and  to  pioneer  customs,  Mr.  Graves  was 
the  only  member  of  the  party  who  understood  how  to  con- 
struct snow-shoes.  The  unsuccessful  attempt  made  by  the 
first  party  proved  that  no  human  being  could  walk  upon  the 
loose  snow  without  some  artificial  assistance.  By  carefully 
sawing  the  ox-bows  into  strips,  so  as  to  preserve  their  curved 
form,  Mr.  Graves,  by  means  of  rawhide  thongs,  prepared 
very  serviceable  snow-shoes.  Fourteen  pair  of  shoes  were 
made  in  this  manner.  It  was  certain  death  for  all  to  remain 
in  camp,  and  yet  the  first  attempt  had  shown  that  it  was 
almost  equally  certain  death  to  attempt  to  reach  the  settle- 
ments. There  was  not  food  for  all,  and  yet  the  ones  who 
undertook  to  cross  the  mountains  were   undoubtedly  ..sacri- 


^6  HISTORY   OF  THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

ficing  their  lives  for  those  who  remained  in  camp.  If  some 
should  go,  those  who  were  left  behind  might  be  able  to  pre- 
serve life  until  spring,  or  until  relief  came.  The  stoutest 
hearts  quailed  before  the  thought  of  battling  with  the  deep 
drifts,  the  storms,  and  the  unknown  dangers  which  lurked  on 
the  summits.  The  bravest  shuddered  at  the  idea  of  leaving 
the  cabins  and  venturing  out  into  the  drear  and  dismal 
wilderness  of  snow.  Yet  they  could  count  upon  their  fingers 
the  days  that  would  elapse  before  the  provisions  would  be 
exhausted,  and  starvation  would  ensue,  if  none  left  the 
camps. 

Day  after  day,  with  aching  hearts  and  throbbing  brows, 
the  poor  imprisoned  wretches  gazed  into  each  other's  faces 
in  blank  despair.  Who  should  be  sacrificed?  Who  would 
go  out  and  seek  a  grave  'neath  the  crashing  avalanche,  the 
treacherous  drifts,  or  in  the  dreary  famished  wilderness,  that 
those  left  behind  might  live?  Who  would  be  the  forlorn 
hope  of  the  perishing  emigrants  ? 

Once,  Messrs.  Patrick  Breen,  Patrick  Dolan,  Lewis  Kese- 
berg,  and  W.  H.  Eddy,  are  said  to  have  attempted  to  reach 
the  summit.  On  another  occasion  these  same  parties,  with 
Mrs.  Reed  and  family,  Mr.  Stanton  and  the  two  Indians, 
made  an  unsuccessful  attempt.  Still  another  time,  a  large 
party,  among  whom  were  Mrs.  Murphy  and  the  older  mem- 
bers of  her  family,  made  the  effort,  and  even  succeeded  in 
crossing  the  topmost  ridge  and  reaching  Summit  Valley,  one 
and  a  half  miles  west  of  the  summit.  But  all  these  parties 
were  forced  to  return  to  the  cabins,  and  each  failure  confirmed 
the  belief  that  no  living  being  could  cross  the  mountains.  In 
this  manner  time  dragged  wearily  along  until  the  tenth,  or, 
as  some  say,  the  sixteenth  of  December.  The  mere  matter 
of  the  date  is  of  trifling  importance.  At  all  events  a  forlorn 
hopc^vas  organized.     Seventeen  names  were  enrolled  as  vol- 


VIRGINIA  E.  REED. 

(Mrs.  J.  M.  Murphy.) 
1880. 


MAKING   SNOW-SHOES.  67 

unteers.  Of  these,  Charles  Burger  went  only  a  short  dis- 
tance, turning  back  weary  and  exhausted.  Wm.  G.  Murphy, 
who  is  described  as  a  most  brave  and  resolute  boy  of  eleven 
years  of  age,  accompanied  the  party  as  far  as  the  head  of 
Donner  Lake.  He  and  his  brother  Lemuel  were  without 
snow-shoes.  It  was  expected  they  would  step  in  the  beaten 
tracks  of  those  who  had  shoes,  but  this  was  soon  proven  to 
be  utterly  impracticable.  The  party  made  snow-shoes  for 
Lemuel  on  the  first  night,  out  of  the  aparajos  which  had 
been  brought  by  Stanton  from  Sutter's  Fort.  Wm.  G.  Mur- 
phy saved  his  life  by  returning  to  the  cabins.  No  human 
being  could  have  endured  the  trip  without  snow-shoes.  Fif- 
teen remained  in  the  party,  and  these  pressed  forward  without 
so  much  as  daring  to  look  back  to  the  dear  ones  whose  lives 
depended  upcyi  this  terrible  venture.  Without  forgetting 
William  G.  Murphy  and  Charles  Burger,  who  started  with 
this  little  band,  the  first  party  who  crossed  the  Sierra  will  in 
future  be  termed  the  fifteen.  Who  composed  this  party? 
Mothers,  whose  babes  would  starve  unless  the  mothers  went ; 
fathers,  whose  wives  and  children  would  perish  if  the  fathers 
did  not  go;  children,  whose  aged  parents  could  not  survive 
unless  the  children,  by  leaving,  increased  the  parents'  share 
of  food.     Each  were  included  in  the  forlorn  hope. 

It  was  time  for  some  one  to  leave  the  cabins.  During  the 
days  that  had  elapsed,  no  word  had  been  received  from  the 
Donner  brothers  at  Alder  Creek,  nor  from  the  emigrants  who 
camped  with  them.  Alder  Creek  is  a  branch  of  Prosser 
Creek,  and  the  Donners  encamped  on  the  former  stream 
about  a  mile  and  a  half  above  the  junction. 

On  the  ninth  of  December,  Milton  Elliott  and  Noah 
James  started  back  to  learn  some  tidings  of  these  people. 
Soon  after  they  left  the  camps  at  the  lake,  a  terrific  storm 
came    down    from    the    mountains,   and    as    notliing    had 


68  HISTORY   OK  THE    DONNER    PARTY. 

been  heard  from  them,  it  was  considered  certain   they  had 
perished. 

About  this  time,  starvation  and  exposure  had  so  preyed 
upon  one  of  the  company,  Augustus  Spitzer,  that  one  day  he 
came  reeling  and  staggering  into  the  Breen  cabin  and  fell 
prostrate  and  helpless  upon  the  floor.  Poor  fellow,  he  never 
rallied,  although  by  careful  nursing  and  kindest  attentions  he 
lingered  along  for  some  weeks.  The  emigrants  were  no  longer 
on  short  allowance,  they  were  actually  starving!  Oh!  the 
horror!  the  dread  alarm  which  prevailed  among  the  com- 
pany! C.  T.  Stanton,  ever  brave,  courageous,  lion-hearted, 
said,  "  I  will  bring  help  to  these  famishing  people  or  lay  down 
my  life."  F.  W.  Graves,  who  was  one  of  the  noblest  men 
who  ever  breathed  the  breath  of  life,  was  next  to  volunteer. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Graves  had  nine  children,  the  jioungest  being 
only  nine  months  old.  Generously  had  they  parted  with  the 
cattle  which  they  brought  to  the  lake,  dividing  equally  with 
those  families  who  had  no  food.  Mary  A.  Graves  and  her 
elder  sister,  Mrs.  Sarah  Fosdick,  determined  to  accompany 
their  father,  and  as  will  presently  be  seen,  their  hearts  failed 
not  during  trials  which  crushed  strong  men.  Mary  Graves 
was  about  nineteen  years  old.  She  was  a  very  beautiful  girl, 
of  tall  and  slender  build,  and  exceptionally  graceful  carriage. 
Her  features,  in  their  regularity,  were  of  classic  Grecian 
mold.  Her  eyes  were  dark,  bright,  and  expressive.  A  fine 
mouth  and  perfect  set  of  teeth,  added  to  a  luxuriant  growth 
of  dark,  rebelliously  wavy  hair,  completed  an  almost  perfect 
picture  of  lovely  girlhood.  Jay  Fosdick  resolved  to  share 
with  his  wife  the  perils  of  the  way.  Mrs.  Murphy  offered  to 
take  care  of  the  infant  children  of  her  married  daughters,  Mrs. 
Foster  and  Mrs.  Pike,  if  they  would  join  the  party.  The 
dear,  good  mother  argued  that  what  the  daughters  would  eat 
would  keep  her  and  the  little  ones  from  starving.     It  was 


A   GENEROUS    ACT.  69 

nobly  said,  yet  who  can  doubt  but  that,  with  clearer  vision, 
the  mother  saw  that  only  by  urging  them  to  go,  could  she 
save  her  daughters'  lives.  With  what  anguish  did  Mrs.  Mar- 
riet  F.  Pike  enroll  her  name  among  those  of  the  "Forlorn 
Hope,"  and  bid  good-by  to  her  little  two-year-old  Naomi  and 
her  nursing  babe,  Catherine!  What  bitter  tears  were  shed 
by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Foster  when  they  kissed  their  beautiful  baby 
boy  farewell!  Alas!  though  they  knew  it  not,  it  was  a  long, 
long  farewell.  Mrs.  Eddy  was  too  feeble  to  attempt  the  jour- 
ney, and  the  family  were  so  poorly  provided  with  food  that 
Mr.  Eddy  was  compelled  to  leave  her  and  the  two  little  chil- 
dren in  the  cabins,  and  go  with  the  party.  Mrs.  McCutchen 
also  had  an  infant  babe,  and  Mrs.  Graves  employed  the  same 
reasoning  with  her  that  Mrs.  Murphy  had  so  effectively  used 
with  Mrs.  Pike  and  Mrs.  P'oster.  That  these  three  young 
mothers  left  their  infant  children,  their  nursing  babes,  with 
others,  and  started  to  find  relief,  is  proof  stronger  than  words, 
of  the  desperate  condition  of  the  starving  emigrants.  The 
Mexican  Antoine,  the  two  Indians  Lewis  and  Salvador,  and 
an  Irishman  named  Patrick  Dolan,  completed  the  fifteen. 
This  Patrick  Dolan  deserves  more  than  a  passing  word.  He 
had  owned  a  farm  in  Keokuk,  Iowa,  and  selling  it,  had  taken 
as  the  price,  a  wagon,  four  oxen,  and  two  cows.  With  these 
he  joined  the  Donner  Party,  and  on  reaching  the  lake  had 
killed  his  cattle  and  stored  them  away  with  those  killed  by 
the  Breens.  Dolan  was  a  bachelor,  and  about  forty  years  of 
age.  He  was  possessed  of  two  or  three  hundred  dollars  in 
coin,  but  instead  of  being  miserly  or  selfish,  was  characterized 
by  generous  open-heartedness.  "When  it  became  apparent 
that  there  was  to  be  suffering  and  starvation  "  (this  quotation 
is  from  the  manuscript  of  Hon.  James  F.  Breen),  "  Dolan  de- 
termined to  lighten  the  burden  at  the  camps,  and  leave  with 
the  party  that  was  to  attempt  the  passage  of  the  summit,  so 


•JO  HISTORY    OF   THE    DONNER    PARTY. 

that  there  should  be  less  to  consume  the  scant  supply  of  pro- 
visions. Previous  to  his  departure,  he  asked  my  father  (Pat- 
rick Breen)  to  attend  to  the  wants  of  Reed's  family,  and  to 
give  of  his  (Dolan's)  meat  to  Reed's  family  as  long  as  possi- 
ble." Accordingly,  Mrs.  Reed  and  her  children  were  taken 
into  Breen's  cabin,  where,  as  mentioned  above,  Dolan's  meat 
was  stored.  Was  ever  a  more  generous  act  recorded?  Pat- 
rick Dolan  had  no  relative  in  the  Donner  Party,  and  no 
friends,  save  those  whose  friendship  had  been  formed  upon 
the  plains.  With  the  cattle  which  belonged  to  him  he  could 
have  selfishly  subsisted  until  relief  came,  but,  whole-souled 
Irishman  that  he  was,  he  gave  food  to  the  mothers  and  the 
children  and  went  out  into  the  waste  of  snow  to  perish  of 
starvation!  How  many  who  live  to-day  owe  their  existence 
to  Patrick  Dolan's  self-sacrifice!  This  blue-eyed,  brown- 
haired  Irishman  is  described  as  being  of  a  jovial  disposition, 
and  inclined  to  look  upon  the  bright  side  of  things.  Remem- 
bering how  he  gave  his  life  for  strangers,  how  readily  can  we 
appreciate  Mr.  Breen's  tender  tribute :  "  He  was  a  favorite 
with  children,  and  would  romp  and  play  with  a  child."  As 
a  token  of  appreciation  for  his  kindness,  Mrs.  Reed  gave  Pat- 
rick Dolan  a  gold  watch  and  a  Masonic  emblem  belonging 
to  her  husband,  bidding  him  to  keep  them  until  he  was  re- 
warded for  his  generosity.  The  good  mother's  word  had  a 
significance  she  wot  not  of.  When  Mrs.  Reed  reached  Sut- 
ter's Fort  she  found  these  valuables  awaiting  her.  They  had 
been  brought  in  by  Indians.  Patrick  Dolan  had  kept  them 
until  his  death — until  the  angels  came  and  bore  him  away  to 
his  reward. 

This  party  of  fifteen  had  taken  provisions  to  last  only  six 
days.  At  the  end  of  this  time  they  hoped  to  reach  Bear 
Valley,  so  they  said,  but  it  is  more  than  probable  they  dared 
not  take  more  food  from  their  dear  ones  at  the  cabins.     Six 


MARY   A.   GRAVES     ACCOUNT.  J I 

days'  rations!  This  means  enough  of  the  poor,  shriveled  beef 
to  allow  each  person,  three  times  a  day,  a  piece  the  size  of 
one's  two  fingers.  With  a  little  coffee  and  a  little  loaf  sugar, 
this  was  all.  They  had  matches,  Foster's  gun,  a  hatchet,  and 
each  a  thin  blanket.  With  this  outfit  they  started  to  cross 
the  Sierra.  No  person,  unaccustomed  to  snow-shoes,  can 
form  an  idea  of  the  difficulty  which  is  experienced  during 
one's  first  attempt  to  walk  with  them.  Their  shoes  would 
sink  deep  into  the  loose,  light  snow,  and  it  was  Avith  great 
effort  they  made  any  progress.  They  had  been  at  Donner 
Lake  from  forty-two  to  forty-six  days,  and  on  this  first  night 
of  their  journey  had  left  it  four  miles  behind  them.  After  a 
dreadful  day's  work  they  encamped,  in  full  sight  of  the  lake 
and  of  the  cabins.  This  was  harder  for  the  aching  hearts  of 
the  mothers  than  even  the  terrible  parting  from  their  little 
ones.  To  see  the  smoke  of  the  cabins,  to  awake  from  their 
troubled  dreams,  thinking  they  heard  the  cry  of  their  starving 
babes,  to  stifle  the  maternal  yearnings  which  prompted  them 
to  turn  back  and  perish  with  their  darlings  clasped  to  their 
breasts,  were  trials  almost  unbearable.  The  next  day  they 
traveled  six  miles.  They  crossed  the  summit,  and  the  camps 
were  no  longer  visible.  They  were  in  the  solemn  fastnesses 
of  the  snow-mantled  Sierra.  Lonely,  desolate,  forsaken  ap- 
parently by  God  and  man,  their  situation  was  painfully,  dis- 
tressingly terrible.  The  snow  was  wrapped  about  cliff  and 
forest  and  gorge.  It  varied  in  depth  from  twelve  to  sixty 
feet. 

Mrs.  M.  A.  Clarke  (Mary  Graves),  now  of  White  River, 
Tulare  County,  speaking  of  this  second  day,  says:  "  We  had 
a  very  slavish  day's  travel,  climbing  the  divide.  Nothing  of 
interest  occurred  until  reaching  the  summit.  The  scenery 
was  too  grand  for  me  to  pass  without  notice,  the  changes 
being  so  great;  walking  now  on  loose  snow,  and  now  step- 


72  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONXEK    PAKT\. 

ping  on  a  hard,  slick  rock  a  number  of  hundred  yards  in 
length.  Being  a  little  in  the  rear  of  the  party,  I  had  a  chance 
to  observe  the  company  ahead,  trudging  along  with  packs  on 
their  backs.  It  reminded  me  of  some  Norwegian  fur  com- 
pany among  the  icebergs.  My  shoes  were  ox-bows,  split  in 
two,  and  rawhide  strings  woven  in,  something  in  form  of  the 
old-fashioned,  split-bottomed  chairs.  Our  clothes  were  of 
the  bloomer  costume,  and  generally  were  made  of  flannel. 
Well  do  I  remember  a  remark  one  of  the  company  made 
here,  that  we  were  about  as  near  heaven  as  we  could  get. 
We  camped  a  little  on  the  west  side  of  the  summit  the  second 
night." 

Here  they  gathered  a  few  boughs,  kindled  a  fire  upon  the 
surface, of  the  snow,  boiled  their  coffee,  and  ate  their  pitiful 
allowance  of  beef;  then  wrapping  their  toil-worn  bodies  in 
their  blankets,  lay  down  upon  the  snow.  As  W.  C.  Graves 
remarks,  it  was  a  bed  that  was  soft,  and  white,  and  beautiful, 
and  yet  it  was  a  terrible  bed — a  bed  of  death.  The  third 
day  they  walked  five  miles.  Starting  almost  at  dawn,  they 
struggled  wearily  through  the  deep  drifts,  and  when  the  night 
shadows  crept  over  crag  and  pine  and  mountain  vale,  they 
were  but  five  miles  on  their  journey.  They  did  not  speak 
during  the  day,  except  when  speech  was  absolutely  neces- 
sary. All  traveled  silently,  and  with  downcast  eyes.  The 
task  was  beginning  to  tell  upon  the  frames  of  even  the 
strongest  and  most  resolute.  The  hunger  that  continually 
gnawed  at  their  vitals,  the  excessive  labor  of  moving  the 
heavy,  clumsy  snow-shoes  through  the  soft,  yielding  snow, 
was  too  much  for  human  endurance.  They  could  no  longer 
keep  together  and  aid  each  other  with  words  of  hope.  They 
struggled  along,  sometimes  at  great  distances  apart.  The 
fatigue  and  dazzling  sunlight  rendered  some  of  them  snow- 
blind.     One  of   these  was  the    noblc-heartcd    Stanton.     On 


"  I    AM    COMING    SOON."  75 

this  third  day  he  was  too  blind  and  weak  to  keep  up  with 
the  rest,  and  staggered  into  the  camp  long  after  the  other.;  liad 
finished  their  pitiful  supper.  Poor,  brave,  generous  Stanton! 
He  said  little,  but  in  his  inner  heart  he  knew  that  the  end  of 
his  journey  was  almost  at  hand. 

Who  was  this  heroic  being  who  left  the  beautiful  valleys  of 
the  Sacramento  to  die  for  strangers  ?  See  him  wearily  toil- 
ing onward  during  the  long  hours  of  the  fourth  day.  The 
agony  and  blindness  of  his  eyes  wring  no  cry  from  his  lips, 
no  murmur,  no  word  of  complaint.  With  patient  courage 
and  heroic  fortitude  he  strives  to  keep  pace  with  his  com- 
panions, but  finds  it  impossible.  Early  in  the  morning  he 
drops  to  the  rear,  and  is  soon  lost  to  sight.  At  night  he 
drags  his  weary  limbs  into  camp  long  after  his  comrades  are 
sleeping  'neath  the  silent  stars.  It  must  be  remembered  that 
they  had  been  accustomed  to  short  allowance  of  food  for 
montTis,  while  he  had  been  used  to  having  an  abundance. 
Their  bodies  had  been  schooled  to  endure  famine,  privations, 
and  long,  weary  walks.  For  many  days  before  reaching  the 
mountains,  they  had  been  used  to  walking  every  day,  in 
order  to  lighten  the  burdens  of  the  perishing  oxen.  Fatigues 
which  exhausted  them  crushed  Stanton.  The  weather  was 
clear  and  pleasant,  but  the  glare  of  the  sun  during  the  day 
had  been  like  molten  fire  to  their  aching  eyes. 

On  the  morning  of  the  fifth  day  Stanton  was  sitting  smok- 
ing by  the  smoldering  fire  when  the  company  resumed  its 
journey.  Mary  Graves,  who  had  a  tender  heart  for  the  suf- 
fering of  others,  went  kindly  up  to  him,  and  asked  him  if  he 
were  coming.  "Yes,"  he  replied,  "  I  am  coming  soon."  Was 
he  answering  her,  or  the  unseen  spirits  that  even  then  were 
beckoning  him  to  the  unknown  world?  "Yes,  I  am  coming 
soon!"  These  were  his  last  words.  His  companions  were 
too  near  death's  door  to  return  when  they  found  he  came  not, 


74  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER    PARTY. 

and  so  he  perished.  He  had  begged  them  piteously  to  lead 
him,  during  the  first  days  of  his  blindness,  but  seeming  to 
realize  that  they  were  unable  to  render  assistance,  he  ceased 
to  importune,  and  heroically  met  his  fate.  He  did  not  blame 
his  comrades.  They  were  weak,  exhausted,  and  ready  to  die 
of  starvation.  With  food  nearly  gone,  strength  failing,  hope 
lost,  and  nothing  left  but  the  last,  blind,  clinging  instinct  of 
life,  it  was  impossible  that  the  perishing  company  should 
have  aided  the  perishing  Stanton.  He  was  a  hero  of  the 
highest,  noblest,  grandest  stamp.  No  words  can  ever  ex- 
press a  fitting  tribute  to  his  memory.  He  gave  his  life  for 
strangers  who  had  not  the  slightest  claim  to  the  sacrifice. 
He  left  the  valleys  where  friends,  happiness,  and  abundance 
prevailed,  to  perish  amidst  chilling  snow-drifts — famished  and 
abandoned.  The  act  of  returning  to  save  the  starving  emi- 
grants is  as  full  of  heroic  grandeur  as  his  death  is  replete  with 
mournful  desolation.  * 

In  May,  1847,  W.  C.  Graves,  in  company  with  a  relief  party, 
found  the  remains  of  C.  T.  Stanton  near  the  spot  where  he 
had  been  left  by  his  companions.  The  wild  animals  had  par- 
tially devoured  his  body,  but  the  remains  were  easily  identi- 
fied by  means  of  his  clothing  and  pistols. 

The  following  sketch  of  this  hero  is  kindly  furnished  by 
his  brother,  Sidney  Stanton,  of  Cazenovia,  New  York : 

"  Charles  Tyler  Stanton  was  born  at  Pompey,  Onondaga 
County,  New  York,  March  11,  181 1.  He  was  five  feet  five 
inches  in  height.  He  had  brown  eyes  and  brown  hair.  He 
possessed  a  robust  constitution,  and  although  rather  slender 
during  his  youth,  at  the  age  of  fifteen  he  became  strong  and 
hearty,  and  could  endure  as  great  hardships  as  any  of  his 
brothers.  He  had  five  brothers  and  four  sisters,  and  was  the 
seventh  child.  His  grandparents,  on  his  father's  side,  were 
well  off  at  the  close  of  the  revolutionary  war,  but  sold  their 


STANTON  S    CHARITY   AND    SELF-SACRIFICE.  75 

large  farms,  and  took  Continental  money  in  payment.  Soon 
afterward  this  money  became  worthless,  and  they  lost  all. 
They  were  at  the  time  living  in  Berkshire,  Massachusetts, 
but  soon  after  removed  west  to  the  county  where  C.  T.  Stan- 
ton was  born.  There  were  in  his  father's  family  fourteen 
children — seven  sons  and  seven  daughters." 

In  his  younger  days  Stanton  was  engaged  as  a  clerk  in  a 
store.  He  was  honest,  industrious,  and  greatly  beloved  by 
those  with  whom  he  came  in  contact.  His  early  education 
was  limited,  but  during  his  employment  as  clerk  he  used 
every  possible  endeavor  to  improve  his  mind.  During  his 
journey  across  the  plains,  he  was  regarded  as  somewhat  of  a 
savant,  on  account  of  his  knowledge  of  botany,  geology,  and 
other  branches  of  natural  science.  His  disposition  was  gen- 
erous to  a  fault.  He  never  was  happier  than  when  bestowing 
assistance  upon  needy  friends.  His  widowed  mother,  for 
whom  he  entertained  the  most  devoted  affection,  was  kindly 
cared  for  by  him  until  her  death  in  1835.  After  this  sad 
event  he  removed  to  Chicago,  At  Chicago  he  made  money 
rapidly  for  a  time,  and  his  hand  was  ever  ready  to  give  aid  to 
those  about  him.  Charity  and  heroic  self-sacrifice  appear  to 
have  been  his  predominant  characteristics.  They  stand  out 
in  bold  relief,  not  only  in  his  early  history,  but  during  his 
connection  with  the  Donner  Party.  While  in  the  mountains 
he  had  no  money  to  give,  but  instead  he  gave  his  strength, 
his  energy,  his  love,  his  all,  his  very  life,  for  his  companions. 

That  he  had  a  premonition  of  the  gloomy  fate  which  over- 
took him  in  the  Sierra,  or  at  least  that  he  fully  realized  the 
perils  to  which  he  was  exposing  his  life,  is  indicated  by  the 
following  incident :  When  he  set  out  from  Sutter's  Fort  to 
return  to  the  Donner  train  with  provisions,  he  left  a  vest  with 
Captain  Sutter.  In  one  of  the  pockets  of  this  vest  was  subse- 
quently found  a  package  directed  to  the  Captain  with  the  fol- 


j6  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER   PARTY. 

lowing  memorandum :  "Captain  Sutter  will  send  the  within, 
in  the  event  of  my  death,  to  Sidney  Stanton,  Syracuse,  New 
York."  The  package  contained  a  diamond  breastpin.  Mr. 
Sidney  Stanton  writes  as  follows  concerning  this  keepsake : 

"  I  will  give  you  a  short  history  or  account  of  the  pin  which 
was  left  for  me  at  Sutter's  Fort,  which  Mr.  McKinstry  for- 
warded to  me.  This  was  an  event  so  peculiar  at  the  time. 
He  visited  me  here  at  Syracuse,  while  he  was  prospering  in 
Chicago.  He  was  on  his  way  to  New  York,  and  wanted  a 
sum  of  money,  which  I  advanced.  Before  leaving  he  fastened 
this  pin  on  the  dress  of  my  wife,  remarking  that  she  must 
consider  it  as  a  present  from  him.  Nothing  more  was  thought 
of  this  event  until  he  again  wanted  money.  Misfortune  had 
overtaken  him,  and  this  event  gave  him  much  pain,  not  so 
much  on  his  own  account  as  because  he  could  not  relieve  the 
distress  of  dear  friends  when  asked  for  aid.  I  sent  him  a  little 
more  money;  I  had  not  much  to  spare,  and  in  talking  the 
matter  over  with  my  wife,  she  asked,  'Why  not  send  him  the 
pin?  It  is  valuable,  and  in  time  of  need  he  might  dispose  of 
it  for  his  comfort.'  In  saying  this  she  took  the  ground  that 
it  was  left  with  her  as  a  pledge,  not  as  a  gift.  I  therefore 
handed  it  to  my  sister  to  send  to  him  for  this  purpose.  But 
it  appears  by  his  keeping  it  and  sending  it  back  in  the  way 
he  did,  that  he  did  consider  it  a  gift,  and  hence  he  would  not 
and  did  not  dispose  of  it  for-  necessary  things  for  his  own 
comfort.  This  pin  was  the  only  thing  of  value  which  he  had 
at  the  time  of  his  death." 

Stanton  was  an  excellent  writer.  His  descriptions  of  his 
travels  from  Chicago  to  the  South  would  make  a  good-sized 
and  a  very  interesting  book.  His  last  composition  is  given 
below.  It  is  an  appropriate  ending  to  this  brief  outline  of 
the  history  of  one  who  should  be  regarded  as  one  of  the 
noblest  of  California's  pioneer  heroes: 


STANTON  S   LAST   POEM.  "J"] 

"TO  MY  MOTHER  IN  HEAVEN. 

"Oh,  how  that  word  my  soul  inspires 
With  holy,  fond,  and  pure  desires! 

Maternal  love,  how  bright  the  flame! 
For  wealth  of  worlds  I'd  not  profane 
Nor  idly  breathe  thy  sacred  name. 
My  mother. 

"Thy  sainted  spirit  dwells  on  high. 
How  oft  I  weep,  how  oft  I  sigh 

Whene'er  I  think  of  bygone  time, 
Thy  smile  of  love,  which  once  was  mine, 
That  look  so  heavenly  and  diviae. 
My  mother. 

"Thy  warning  voice  in  prayers  of  love. 
Ascending  to  the  throne  above 

With  tones  of  eloquence  so  rife, 
Hath  turned  my  thoughts  from  wordly  strife, 
And  cheered  me  through  my  wayward  life. 
My  mother. 

"When  death  shall  close  my  sad  career, 
And  I  before  my  God  appear — 

There  to  receive  His  last  decree — 
My  only  prayer  there  will  be 
Forever  to  remain  with  thee, 
My  mother." 


Chapter  VIL 


A  Wife's  Devotion — The  Smoky  Gorge — Caught  in  a  Storm — Casting  Lots  to 
See  WTio  should  Die — A  Hidden  River — The  Delirium  of  Starvation — 
Franklin  Ward  Graves — His  Dying  Advice — A  Frontiersman's  Plan — The 
Camp  of  Death — A  Dread  Resort — A  Sister's  Agony — The  Indians  Refuse 
to  Eat — Lewis  and  Salvador  Flee  for  Their  Lives — Killing  a  Deer — Tracks 
Marked  by  Blood — Nine  Days  without  Food. 

l^pET  no  one  censure  Stanton  s  companions  for  abandon- 
ing their  brave  comrade.  In  less  than  twenty-four 
hours  all  were  without  food,  unless,  indeed,  it  was 
Mr.  Eddy,  who,  in  his  narration  published  by  Judge 
k  Thornton,  states  that  on  the  day  of  Stanton's  death 
he  found  half  a  pound  of  bear's  meat  which  had  been 
secreted  in  a  little  bag  by  his  wife.  Attached  to  this  meat 
was  a  paper,  upon  which  hie  wife  had  written  in  pencil  a  note 
signed,  "Your  own  dear  Eleanor."  Mr.  Eddy  had  not  dis- 
covered this  meat  until  the  sorest  hour  of  need,  and  the  hope 
expressed  in  Mrs.  Eddy's  note,  that  it  would  be  the  means  of 
saving  his  life,  was  literally  fulfilled.  There  is  something  ex- 
tremely touching  in  the  thought  that  this  devoted  wife,  who, 
as  will  presently  be  seen,  was  starving  to  death  in  the  cabins, 
saved  her  husband's  life  by  clandestinely  concealing  about 
his  person  a  portion  of  the  food  which  should  have  sustained 
herself  and  her  infant  children. 


MATTIE  J.  (PATTY)  REED. 


Mrs.  Frauk  Lewis.) 
1854. 


CASTING   LOTS   TO   SEE   WHO   SHOULD  i  DIE.  79 

In  the  account  given  by  Mztry  Graves,  is  mentioned  the 
following  incident  in  the  fourth  day's  travel:  "Observing  by 
the  way  a  deep  gorge  at  the  right,  having  the  appearance  of 
being  full  of  smoke,  I  wanted  very  much  to  go  to  it,  but  the 
Indians  said  no,  that  was  not  the  way.  1  prevailed  on  the 
men  to  fire  the  gun,  but  there  was  no  answer.  Every  time 
we  neared  the  gorge  I  would  halloo  at  the  top  of  my  voice, 
but  we  received  no  answer." 

On  this  day  the  horror  of  the  situation  was  increased  by 
the  commencement  of  a  snow-storm.  As  the  flakes  fell  thick 
and  fast,  the  party  sat  down  in  the  snow  utterly  discouraged 
and  heartsick. 

Mary  Graves  says:  "What  to  do  we  did  not  know.  We 
held  a  consultation,  whether  to  go  ahead  without  provisions, 
or  go  back  to  the  cabins,  where  we  must  undoubtedly  starve. 
Some  of  those  who  had  children  and  families  wished  to  go 
back,  but  the  two  Indians  said  they  would  go  on  to  Captain 
Sutter's.  I  told  them  I  Avould  go  too,  for  to  go  back  and 
hear  the  cries  of  hunger  from  my  little  brothers  and  sisters 
was  more  than  I  could  stand.  I  would  go  as  far  as  I  could, 
let  the  consequences  be  what  they  might." 

There,  in  the  deep,  pitiless  storm,  surrounded  on  all  sides 
by  desolate  wastes  of  snow,  the  idea  was  first  advanced  that 
life  might  be  sustained  if  some  one  were  to  perish.  Since 
leaving  the  cabins,  they  had  at  no  time  allowed  themselves 
more  than  one  ounce  of  meat  per  meal,  and  for  two  entire 
days  they  had  not  tasted  food.  The  terrible  pangs  of  hunger 
must  be  speedily  allayed  or  death  was  inevitable.  Some  one 
proposed  that  lots  be  cast  to  see  who  should  die.  The  terri- 
ble proposition  met  with  opposition  from  Foster  and  others, 
but  slips  of  paper  were  actually  prepared  by  some  of  the  men, 
and  he  who  drew  the  longest — the  fatal  slip — was  Patrick 
Dolan.     Who  should  take  Dolan's  Hfe?     Who  was  to  be  the 


8o  UISTORY   OF  THE    DONNER    PART\', 

executioner  of  the  man  who  had  so  generously  given  up  the 
food  which  might  have  sustained  his  life,  and  joined  the  for- 
lorn hope  that  others  might  live?  With  one  accord  they 
rose  to  their  feet  and  staggered  forward.  As  if  to  banish 
from  their  minds  the  horrid  thought  of  taking  Dolan's  life, 
they  attempted  to  pursue  their  journey. 

With  the  greatest  exertion  and  suffering  they  managed  to 
crawl,  and  stagger,  and  flounder  along  until  they  attained  a 
distance  of  two  or  three  miles.  Here  they  camped,  and 
passed  a  most  wretched,  desolate  night.  The  morning  dawned; 
it  was  drear}',  rainy,  and  discouraging.  The  little  party  set 
out  as  usual,  but  were  too  weak  and  lifeless  to  travel.  The 
soft  snow  clung  to  their  feet  in  heavy  lumps  like  snow-balls. 
Instead  of  making  a  fire  in  a  new  place,  Mary  Graves  says 
they  crawled  back  to  the  camp-fire  of  the  night  previous.  Here 
they  remained  until  night  came  on — a  night  full  of  horrors. 
The  wind  howled  through  the  shrieking  forests  like  troops  of 
demons.  The  rain  had  continued  all  day,  but  finally  changed 
to  snow  and  sleet,  which  cut  their  pinched  faces,  and  made 
them  shiver  with  cold.  All  the  forces  of  nature  seemed  to 
combine  for  their  destruction.  At  one  time  during  the  night, 
in  attempting  to  kindle  a  fire,  the  ax  or  hatchet  which  they 
had  carried  was  lost  in  the  loose  snow. 

A  huge  fire  was  kindled  at  last,  with  the  greatest  difficulty, 
and  in  order  to  obtain  more  warmth,  all  assisted  in  piling  fuel 
upon  the  flames.  Along  in  the  night,  Mr.  Foster  thinks  it 
was  near  midnight,  the  heat  of  the  flames  and  the  dropping 
coals  and  embers  thawed  the  snow  underneath  the  fire  until 
a  deep,  well-like  cavity  was  formed  about  the  fire.  Suddenly, 
as  if  to  intensify  the  dreadful  horrors  of  the  situation,  the 
bottom  of  this  well  gave  way,  and  the  fire  disappeared! 
The  camp  and  the  fire  had  been  built  over  a  stream  of  water, 
and  the  fire  had  melted  through  the  overlying  snow  until  it 


FRANKLIN   WARD   GRAVES     DYING   ADVICE.  51 

had  fallen  into  the  stream!  Those  who  peered  over  the 
brink  of  the  dark  opening  about  which  they  were  gathered, 
icould  hear,  far  down  in  the  gloom,  during  the  lull  of  the 
storm,  the  sound  of  running  waters. 

If  there  is  anything  lacking  in  this  picture  of  despair,  it  is 
furnished  in  the  groans  and  cries  of  the  shivering,  dying  out- 
casts, and  the  demoniacal  shrieks  and  ravings  of  Patrick  Dolan, 
who  was  in  the  delirium  which  precedes  death.  It  was  not 
necessary  that  life  should  be  taken  by  the  members  of  the 
company.  Death  was  busily  at  work,  and  before  the  wild 
winter  night  was  ended,  his  ghastly  victims  were  deaf  to 
wind  or  storm. 

When  the  fire  disappeared,  it  became  apparent  that  the 
entire  forlorn  hope  would  perish  before  morning  if  exposed 
to  the  cold  and  storm.  W,  H.  Eddy  says  the  wind  increased 
until  it  was  a  perfect  tornado.  About  midnight,  Antoine, 
overcomiC  by  starvation,  fatigue,  and  the  bitter  cold,  ceased 
to  breathe.  Mr.  F.  W.  Graves  was  dying.  There  was  a 
point  beyond  which  an  iron  nerve  and  a  powerful  constitu- 
tion were  unable  to  sustain  a  man.  This  point  had  been 
reached,  and  Mr.  Graves  was  fast  passing  away.  He  was 
conscious,  and  calling  his  weeping,  grief-stricken  daughters 
to  his  side,  exhorted  them  to  use  every  means  in  their  power 
to  prolong  their  lives.  He  reminded  them  of  their  mother, 
oif  their  little  brothers  and  sisters  in  the  cabin  at  the  lake. 
He  reminded  Mrs.  Pike  of  her  poor  babies.  Unless  these 
daughters  succeeded  in  reaching  Sutter's  Fort,  and  were  able 
to  send  back  relief,  all  at  the  lake  must  certainly  die.  In- 
stances had  been  cited  in  history,  where,  under  less  provoca- 
tion, liuman  flesh  had  been  eaten,  yet  Mr.  Graves  well  knew 
that  his  daughters  had  said  they  would  never  touch  the  loath- 
some food. 

Was   there  not  something  noble  and  grand  in  the  dying 


82  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER    PARTY. 

advice  of  this  father?  Was  he  not  heroic  when  he  counseled 
that  all  false  delicacy  be  laid  aside  and  that  his  body  be  sac- 
rificed to  support  those  that  were  to  relieve  his  wife  and 
children  ? 

Earnestly  pleading  that  these  afflicted  children  rise  supe- 
rior to  their  prejudices  and  natural  instincts — Franklin  Ward 
Graves  died.  A  sublimer  death  seldom  is  witnessed.  In  the 
solemn  darkness,  in  the  tempestuous  storm,  on  the  deep, 
frozen  snow-drifts,  overcome  by  pain  and  exposure,  with  the 
pangs  of  famine  gnawing  away  his  life,  this  unselfish  father, 
with  his  latest  breath  urged  that  his  flesh  be  used  to  prolong 
the  lives  of  his  companions.  Truly,  a  soul  that  could  prompt 
such  utterances  had  no  need,  after  death,  for  its  mortal  tene- 
ment— it  had  a  better  dwelling-place  on  high. 

With  two  of  their  little  number  in  the  icy  embraces  of 
death,  some  plan  to  obtain  warmth  for  the  living  was  im- 
mediately necessary.  W.  H.  Eddy  proposed  a  frontiersman's 
method.  It  was  for  all  to  huddle  closely  together  in  a  circle, 
lie  down  on  a  blanket  with  their  heads  outward,  and  be  cov- 
ered with  a  second  blanket.  Mr.  Eddy  arranged  his  com- 
panions, spread  the  blanket  over  them,  and  creeping  under 
the  coverlid,  completed  the  circle.  The  wind  swept  the  drift- 
ing snow  in  dense  clouds  over  their  heads.  The  chilling  air, 
already  white  with  falling  snowflakes,  became  dense  with  the 
drifting  masses.  In  a  little  while  the  devoted  band  were 
completely  hidden  from  wind,  or  storm,  or  piercing  cold,  by 
a  deep  covering  of  snow.  The  warmth  of  their  bodies,  con- 
fined between  the  blankets,  under  the  depth  of  snow,  soon 
rendered  them  comfortably  warm.  Their  only  precaution 
now  was  to  keep  from  being  buried  alive.  Occasionally 
some  member  of  the  party  would  shake  the  rapidly  accumu- 
lating snow  from  off  their  coverlid. 

They  no  longer  were  in  danger  of  freezing.     But  while  the 


THE    CAMP   OF   DEATH.  83 

elements  were  vainly  waging  fierce  war  above  their  heads, 
hunger  was  rapidly  sapping  the  fountains  of  life,  and  claim- 
ing them  for  its  victims.  When,  for  a  moment,  sleep  would 
steal  away  their  reason,  in  famished  dreams  they  would  seize 
with  their  teeth  the  hand  or  arm  of  a  companion.  The  de- 
lirium of  death  had  attacked  one  or  two,  and  the  pitiful  wails 
and  cries  of  these  death-stricken  maniacs  were  heart-rending. 
The  dead,  the  dying,  the  situation,  were  enough  to  drive  one 
crazy. 

The  next  day  was  ushered  in  by  one  of  the  most  furious 
storms  ever  witnessed  on  the  Sierra.  All  the  day  long,  drifts 
and  the  fast-falling  snow  circled  above  them  under  the  force 
of  the  fierce  gale.  The  air  was  a  frozen  fog  of  swift-darting 
ice-lances.  The  fine  particles  of  snow  and  sleet,  hurled  by 
maddened  storm-fiends,  would  cut  and  sting  so  that  one's 
eyes  could  not  be  opened  in  the  storm,  and  the  rushing  gale 
would  hurl  one  prostrate  on  the  snow.  Once  or  twice  the 
demented  Dolan  escaped  from  his  companions  and  disap- 
peared in  the  blinding  storm.  Each  time  he  returned  or  was 
caught  and  dragged  'neath  the  covering,  but  the  fatal  ex- 
posure chilled  the  little  life  remaining  in  his  pulses.  During 
the  afternoon  he  ceased  to  shriek,  or  struggle,  or  moan. 
Patrick  Dolan,  the  warm-hearted  Irishman,  was  starved  to 
death. 

Mr.  Eddy  states,  in  Thornton's  work,  that  they  entered 
this  Camp  of  Death,  Friday,  December  25,  Christmas.  Ac- 
cording to  his  version  they  started  from  the  cabins  on  the 
sixteenth  day  of  December,  with  scanty  rations  for  six  days. 
On  the  twenty-second  they  consumed  the  last  morsel  of  their 
provisions.  Not  until  Sunday  noon,  December  27,  did  the 
storm  break  away.  They  had  been  over  four  days  without 
food,  and  two  days  and  a  half  without  fire.  They  were 
almost  dead. 


84  HISTORY   OF   THE    CONNER    TARTY. 

Is  there  a  mind  so  narrow,  so  uncharitable,  that  it  can 
censure  these  poor  dying  people  for  the  acts  of  this  terrible 
day?  With  their  loved  ones  perishing  at  Donner  Lake,  with 
the  horror  of  a  lingering  death  staring  them  in  the  face, 
can  the  most  unfeeling  heart  condemn  them? 

Emerging  from  the  dreary  prison-house,  they  attempted  to 
kindle  a  fire.  Their  matches  were  wet  and  useless.  Their 
flint-lock  gun  would  give  forth  a  spark,  but  without  some 
dry  material  that  would  readily  ignite,  it  was  of  no  avail. 

On  this  morning  of  the  twenty-seventh  Eddy  says  that  he 
blew  up  a  powder-horn  in  an  effort  to  strike  fire  under  the 
blankets.  His  face  and  hands  were  much  burned.  Mrs. 
McCutchen  and  Mrs.  Foster  were  also  burned,  but  not  seri- 
ously. For  some  time  all  efforts  to  obtain  a  fire  proved 
fruitless.  Their  garments  were  drenched  by  the  storm. 
Mrs.  Pike  had  a  mantle  that  was  lined  with  cotton.  The 
lining  of  this  was  cut  open,  and  the  driest  portion  of  the 
cotton  was  exposed  to  the  sun's  rays,  in  the  hope  that  it 
could  be  made  to  catch  the  spark  from  the  flint.  At  last 
they  were  successful.  A  fire  was  kindled  in  a  dead  tree,  and 
the  flames  soon  leaped  up  to  the  loftiest  branches.  The 
famished,  shivering  wretches  gathered  round  the  burning 
tree.  So  weak  and  lifeless  were  they  that  when  the  great 
pine  limbs  burned  off  and  fell  crashing  about  them,  neither 
man  nor  woman  moved  or  attempted* to  escape  the  threaten- 
ing danger.  All  felt  that  sudden  death  would  be  welcome. 
They  were  stunned  and  horrified  by  the  dreadful  alternative 
which  it  was  evident  they  must  accept. 

The  men  finally  mustered  up  courage  to  approach  the 
dead.  With  averted  eyes  and  trembling  hand,  pieces  of  flesh 
were  severed  from  the  inanimate  forms  and  laid  upon  the 
coals.  It  was  the  very  refinement  of  torture  to  taste  such 
food,    yet   those   who    tasted    lived.     One    could    not    eat. 


A  sister's  agony.        .  85 

Lemuel  Murphy  was  past  relief.  A  boy  about  thirteen  years 
old,  Lemuel  was  dearly  loved  by  his  sisters,  and,  full  of 
courage,  had  endeavored  to  accompany  them  on  the  fearful 
journey.  He  was  feeble  when  he  started  from  the  cabins, 
and  the  overwhelming  sufferings  of  the  fatal  trip  had  de- 
stroyed his  remaining  strength.  Starvation  is  agony  during 
the  first  three  days,  apathy  and  inanition  during  the  fourth 
and  perhaps  the  fifth,  and  delirium  from  that  time  until  the 
struggle  ceases.  When  the  delirium  commences,  hope  ends. 
Lemuel  was  delirious  Sunday  morning,  and  when  food  was 
placed  to  his  lips  he  either  could  not  eat  or  was  too  near 
death  to  revive.  All  day  Mrs.  Foster  held  her  brother's  head 
in  her  lap,  and  by  every  means  in  her  power  sought  to 
soothe  his  death  agonies.  The  sunlight  faded  from  the 
surrounding  summits.  Darkness  slowly  emerged  from  the 
canyons  and  enfolded  forest  and  hill-slope  in  her  silent  em- 
brace. The  glittering  stars  appeared  in  the  heavens,  and  the 
bright,  full  moon  rose  over  the  eastern  mountain  crests. 
The  silence,  the  profound  solitude,  the  ever-present  wastes 
of  snow,  the  weird  moonlight,  and  above  all  the  hollow 
moans  of  the  dying  boy  in  her  lap,  rendered  this  night  the 
most  impressive  in  the  life  of  Mrs.  Foster.  She  says  she 
never  beholds  a  bright  moonlight  without  recurring  with  a 
shudder  to  this  night  on  the  Sierra.  At  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning  Lemuel  Murphy  ceased  to  breathe.  The  warm 
tears  and  kisses  of  the  afflicted  sisters  were  showered  upon 
lips  that  would  never  more  quiver  with  pain. 

Until  the  twenty-ninth  of  December  they  remained  at  the 
"  Camp  of  Death."  Would  you  know  more  of  the  shuddering 
details  ?  Does  the  truth  require  the  narration  of  the  sickening 
minutiae  of  the  terrible  transactions  of  these  days?  Human 
beings  were  never  called  upon  to  undergo  more  trying  ordeals. 
Dividing  into  groups,  the  members  of  each  family  were  spared 


86  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER   PARTY. 

the  pain  of  touching  their  own  kindred.  Days  and  perhaps 
weeks  of  starvation  were  awaiting  them  in  the  future,  and  they 
dare  not  neglect  to  provide  as  best  they  might.  Each  of  the 
four  bodies  was  divested  of  its  flesh,  and  the  flesh  was  dried. 
Although  no  person  partook  of  kindred  flesh,  sights  were  often 
witnessed  that  were  blood-curdhng.  Mrs.  Foster,  as  we  have 
seen,  fairly  worshiped  her  brother  Lemuel.  Has  human  pen 
power  to  express  the  shock  of  horror  this  sister  received 
when  she  saw  her  brother's  heart  thrust  through  with  a  stick, 
and  broiling  upon  the  coals?  No  man  can  record  or  read 
such  an  occurrence  without  a  cry  of  agony!  What,  then,  did 
she  endure  who  saw  this  cruel  sight? 

These  are  facts.  They  are  given  just  as  they  came  from 
the  lips  of  Mrs.  Foster,  a  noble  woman,  who  would  have  died 
of  horror  and  a  broken  heart  but  for  her  starving  babe,  her 
mother,  and  her  little  brothers  and  sisters  who  were  at  Don- 
ner  Lake.  Mary  Graves  corroborates  Mrs.  Foster,  and  W.  H. 
Eddy  gave  a  similar  version  to  Judge  Thornton. 

The  Indian  guides,  Lewis  and  Salvador,  would  not  eat  this 
revolting  food.  They  built  a  fire  away  from  the  company, 
and  with  true  Indian  stoicism  endured  the  agonies  of  starva- 
tion without  so  much  as  beholding  the  occurrences  at  the 
other  camp-fire. 

Starved  bodies  possess  little  flesh,  and  starving  peojDle  could 
carry  but  light  burdens  through  such  snow-drifts.  On  these 
accounts,  the  provision  which  the  Almighty  seemed  to  have 
provided  to  save  their  lives,  lasted  only  until  the  thirty-first. 
On  New  Year's  morning  they  ate  their  moccasins  and  the 
strings  of  their  snow-shoes.  On  the  night  before,  Lewis  and 
Salvador  caught  the  sound  of  ominous  words,  or  perceived 
glances  that  were  filled  with  dreadful  import,  and  during  the 
darkness  they  fled. 

For  several  days  past  the  party  had  been  lost.     The  In- 


KILLING    A    DEEK.  8/ 

dians  could  not  recognize  the  country  when  it  was  hidden 
from  thirty  to  fifty  feet  in  snow.  BHndly  struggling  forward, 
they  gradually  separated  into  three  parties.  On  the  fourlli, 
W.  H.  Eddy  and  Mary  Graves  were  in  advance  with  the  gun. 
A  starved  deer  crossed  their  path  and  providentially  was 
slain.  Drinking  its  warm  blood  and  feasting  upon  its  flesh, 
this  couple  waited  for  the  arrival  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Foster,  Mrs. 
McCutchen,  and  Mrs.  Pike,  who  were  some  distance  behind. 
Night  came  and  passed  and  they  did  not  arrive.  Indeed, 
Foster  was  dying  for  lack  of  nourishment.  Behind  this  party 
were  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Jay  Fosdick.  During  the  night,  Mr.  Fos- 
dick  perished,  and  the  faithful  wife,  after  remaining  with  him 
until  morning,  struggled  forward  and  met  Mrs.  Foster  and  a 
companion.  Mrs.  Fosdick  related  the  death  of  her  husband, 
and  upon  being  informed  of  Foster's  condition,  consented  that 
her  husband's  body  be  converted  into  food.  It  was  done. 
This  was  the  first  time  that  women's  hands  had  used  the 
knife,  but  by  the  act  a  life  was  saved.  Mrs.  Fosdick,  al- 
though dying,  would  not  touch  the  food,  and  but  for  the 
venison  would  not  have  lived  to  see  the  setting  of  the  sun. 
But  what  was  one  small  deer  among  so  many  famished  peo- 
ple? Hide,  head,  feet,  entrails,  all  were  eaten.  On  the  sixth, 
the  last  morsel  was  consumed.  They  were  now  without 
hope.  Their  journey  was  apparently  interminable.  Wearied, 
foot-sore,  freezing  at  night  and  tortured  by  hunger  during  the 
day,  life  could  not  last  many  hours.  Some  one  must  die ; 
else  none  could  live  and  reach  the  long-talked-of  relief. 
Would  it  be  Eddy,  whose  wife  and  two  children  were  be- 
hind? Would  it  be  Mrs.  Pike,  who  left  two  babes?  Mrs. 
McCutchen,  who  left  one?  Mr.  or  Mrs.  Foster,  whose  baby 
boy  was  at  the  cabin?  Or  would  it  be  Mary  Graves  or  Mrs. 
Fosdick,  who  had  left  mother  and  family?  On  the  night  of 
the  seventh,  they  lay  down  upon  the  snow  without  having 


?8 


HISTORY   OF  THE    DONNER   PARTY. 


tasted  a  mouthful  of  food  during  the  day.  Continued  famine 
and  exhaustion  had  so  weakened  their  frames  that  they  could 
not  survive  another  day.  Yet,  on  the  morning  of  the  seventh, 
they  arose  and  staggered  onward.  Soon  they  halted  and 
gathered  about  some  freshly  made  tracks.  Tracks  marked 
by  blood!  Tracks  that  they  knew  had  been  inade  by  Lewis 
and  Salvador,  whose  bare  feet  were  sore  and  bleeding  from 
cuts  and  bruises  inflicted  by  the  cruel,  jagged  rocks,  the  frozen 
snow,  and  flinty  ice.  These  Indians  had  eaten  nothing  for 
nine  days,  and  had  been  without  fire  or  blankets  for  four 
days.     They  could  not  be  far  ahead. 


Chapter  VIII. 


Starvation  at  Donner  Lake — Preparing  Rawhide  for  Food — Eating  the  Fire- 
rug —  Shoveling  Snow  off  the  Beds  —  Playing  they  were  Tea-cups  of 
Custard — A  Starving  Baby — Pleading  with  Silent  Eloquence  —  Patrick 
Breen's  Diary — Jacob  Donner's  Death — A  Child's  Vow^A  Christmas 
Dinner  —  Lost  on  the  Summits — A  Stump  Twenty-two  Feet  High  — 
Seven  Nursing  Babes  at  Donner  Lake- — A  Devout  Father  —  A  Dying 
Boy — Sorrow  and  Suffering  at  the  Cabins. 


lOW  fared  it  with  those  left  at  Donner  Lake  ?  About 
the  time  the  fifteen  began  their  terrible  journey, 
Baylis  Williams  starved  to  death.  Sach  food  as 
the  rest  had  was  freely  given  to  him,  but  it  did  not 
satisfy  the  demands  of  his  nature.  Quietly,  uncom- 
plainingly, he  had  borne  the  pangs  of  famine,  and  when  the 
company  first  realized  his  dreadful  condition,  he  was  in  the 
delirium  which  preceded  death.  What  words  can  portray  the 
emotions  of  the  starving  emigrants,  when  they  saw  one  of 
their  number  actually  perish  of  hunger  before  their  eyes! 
Williams  died  in  the  Graves  cabin,  &nd  was  buried  near  the 
house  by  W.  C.  Graves  and  John  Denton. 

All  the  Donner  Party  were  starving.  When  the  cattle  were 
killed  the  hides  had  been  spread  over  the  cabins  in  lieu  of 
shingles.  These  were  now  taken  down  and  eaten.  All  the 
survivors   describe  the   method  of  preparing  this   miserable 


90  HISTORY   OF  THE    DONNER   PARTY. 

substitute  for  food.  The  narration  by  Mrs.  J.  M.  Murphy 
(Virginia  E.  Reed),  of  San  Jose,  is  among  the  most  vivid. 
She  says  the  green  rawhides  were  cut  into  strips  and  laid 
upon  the  coals,  or  held  in  the  flames  until  the  hair  was  com- 
pletely singed  off.  Either  side  of  the  piece  of  hide  was  then 
scraped  with  a  knife  until  comparatively  clean,  and  was 
placed  in  a  kettle  and  boiled  until  soft  and  pulpy.  There  was 
no  salt,  and  only  a  little  pepper,  and  yet  this  substance  was 
all  that  was  between  them  and  starvation.  When  cold,  the 
boiled  hides  and  the  water  in  which  they  were  cooked,  be- 
came jellied  and  exactly  resembled  glue.  The  tender 
stomachs  of  many  of  the  little  children  revolted  at  this 
disagreeable  diet,  and  the  loathing  they  acquired  for  the 
sight  of  this  substance  still  exists  in  the  minds  of  some  of 
the  survivors.  To  this  day,  Thomas  K.  Reed,  of  San  Jose, 
who  was  then  a  tiny  three-year-old,  can  not  endure  the  sight 
of  calf's-foot  jelly,  or  of  similar  dishes,  because  of  its  re- 
semblance to  the  loathed  food  which  was  all  his  mother 
could  give  him  in  the  cabins  at  Donner  Lake. 

William  G.  Murphy  describes  how  they  gathered  up  the 
old,  castaway  bones  of  the  cattle — bones  from  which  all  the 
flesh  had  been  previously  picked — ^and  boiled,  and  boiled, 
and  boiled  them  until  they  actually  would  crumble  between 
the  teeth,  and  were  eaten.  The  little  children,  playing  upon 
the  fire-rug  in  his  mother's  cabin,  used  to  cut  off  little  pieces 
of  the  rug,  toast  them  crisp  upon  the  coals,  and  then  eat 
them.  In  this  manner,  before  any  one  was  fairly  aware  of 
the  fact,  the  fire-rug  was,  entirely  consumed. 

The  Donner  families,  at  Prosser  Creek,  were,  if  possible, 
in  even  a  sadder  condition.  In  order  to  give  a  glimpse  of 
the  suffering  endured  in  these  two  tents,  the  following  is 
quoted  from  a  letter  written  by  Mrs.  W.  A.  Babcock  (Georgia 
A.  Donner),  now  residing  at  Mountain   View,  Santa  Clara 


THE   STARVING   BABY.  9 1 

County:  "The  families  shared  with  one  another  as  long  as 
they  had  anything  to  share.  Each  one's  portion  was  very 
small.  The  hides  were  boiled,  and  the  bones  were  burned 
brown  and  eaten.  We  tried  to  eat  a  decayed  buffalo  robe, 
but  it  was  too  tough,  and  there  was  no  nourishment  in  it. 
Some  of  the  few  mice  that  came  into  camp  were  caught  and 
eaten.  Some  days  we  could  not  keep  a  fire,  and  many  times, 
during  both  days  and  nights,  snow  was  shoveled  from  off  our 
tent,  and  from  around  it,  that  we  might  not  be  buried  aUve. 
Mother  remarked  one  day  that  it  had  been  two  weeks  that 
our  beds  and  the  clothing  upon  our  bodies  had  been  wet. 
Two  of  my  sisters  and  myself  spent  some  days  at  Keseberg's 
cabin.  The  first  morning  we  were  there  they  shoveled  the 
snow  from  our  bed  before  we  could  get  up.  Very  few  can 
believe  it  possible  for  human  beings  to  live  and  suffer  the  ex- 
posure and  hardships  endured  there." 

Oh!  how  long  and  dreary  the  days  were  to  the  hungry 
children!  Even  their  very  plays  and  pastimes  were  pathetic, 
because  of  their  piteous  silent  allusion  to  the  pangs  of  starva- 
tion. Mrs.  Frank  Lewis  (Patty  Reed),  of  San  Jose,  relates 
that  the  poor,  little,  famishing  girls  used  to  fill  the  pretty 
porcelain  tea-cups  with  freshly  fallen  snow,  daintily  dip  it  out 
with  teaspoons  and  eat  it,  playing  it  was  custard. 

Dear  Mrs.  Murphy  had  the  most  sacred  and  pitiful  charge. 
It  was  the  wee  nursing  babe,  Catherine  Pike,  whose  mother 
had  gone  with  the  "Forlorn  Hope,"  to  try,  if  possible,  to  pro- 
cure relief.  All  there  was  to  give  the  tiny  sufferer,  was  a  little 
gruel  made  from  snow  water,  containing  a  slight  sprinkling 
of  coarse  flour.  This  flour  was  simply  ground  wheat,  un- 
bolted. Day  after  day  the  sweet  little  darling  would  lie  help- 
lessly upon  its  grandmother's  lap,  and  seem  with  its  large, 
sad  eyes  to  be  pleading  for  nourishment.  Mrs.  Murphy  care- 
fully kept  the  little  handful  of  flour  concealed — there  was 


92  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER   PARTY. 

only  a  handful  at  the  very  beginning — lest  some  of  the  starv- 
ing children  might  get  possession  of  the  treasure.  Each  day 
she  gave  Catherine  a  few  teaspoonfuLs  of  the  gruel.  Strangely 
enough,  this  poor  little  martyr  did  not  often  cry  with  hunger, 
but  with  tremulous,  quivering  mouth,  and  a  low,  subdued  sob 
or  moan,  would  appear  to  be  begging  for  something  to  eat. 
The  poor,  dumb  lips,  if  gifted  with  speech,  could  not  have 
uttered  a  prayer  half  so  eloquent,  so  touching.  Could  the 
mother,  Mrs.  Pike,  have  been  present,  it  would  have  broken 
her  heart  to  see  her  patient  babe  dying  slowly,  little  by  little. 
Starvation  had  dried  the  maternal  breasts  long  before  Mrs. 
Pike  went  away,  so  that  no  one  can  censure  her  for  leaving 
her  baby.  She  could  only  have  done  as  Mrs.  Murphy  did, 
give  it  the  plain,  coarse  gruel,  and  watch  it  die,  day  by  day, 
upon  her  lap. 

Up  to  this  time,  but  little  has  been  said  of  Patrick  Breen. 
He  was  an  invalid  during  the  winter  of  1846  and  '47.  A  man 
of  more  than  ordinary  intelligence,  a  devout  Catholic,  a  faith- 
ful and  devoted  father,  his  life  furnishes  a  rare  type  of  the 
pioneer  Californian.  To  Mr.  Breen  we  are  indebted  for  the 
most  faithful  and  authentic  record  of  the  days  spent  at  the 
cabins.  This  record  is  in  the  form  of  a  diary,  in  which  the 
events  of  the  day  were  briefly  noted  in  the  order  of  their  oc- 
currence. Lewis  Keseberg  kept  a  similar  diary,  but  it  was 
subsequently  accidentally  destroyed.  Mrs.  Tamsen  Donner 
kept  a  journal,  but  this,  with  her  paintings  and  botanical  col- 
lections, disappeared  at  the  fatal  tent  on  Alder  Creek.  Mr. 
Breen's  diary  alone  was  preserved.  He  gave  it  into  Col. 
McKinstry's  possession  in  the  spring  of  1847,  and  on  the 
fourth  of  September  of  that  year  it  was  published  in  the 
Nashville  (Tenn.)  Whig.  A  copy  of  the  Whig  of  that  date 
is  furnished  by  Wm.  G.  Murphy,  of  Marysville,  Other  papers 
have  published  garbled  extracts  from  this    diary,  but  none 


PATRICK    BREEN  S    DIARY.  93 

have  been  reliable.  The  future  history  of  the  events  which 
transpired  at  the  cabins  will  be  narrated  in  connection  with 
this  diary. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  the  lake  had  always  been 
known  as  "Truckee  Lake,"  it  having  been  named  after  an 
old  Indian  guide  who  had  rendered  much  assistance  to  the 
Schallenberger  party  in  1844.  The  record  appears  without 
the  slightest  alteration.  Even  the  orthography  of  the  name 
of  the  lake  is  printed  as  it  was  written,  "  Truckey." 

The  diary  commences  as  follows: 

"Truckey's  Lake,  November  20,  1846. 
"  Came  to  this  place  on  the  thirty-first  of  last  month ;  went 
into  the  pass ;  the  snow  so  deep  we  were  unable  to  find  the 
road,  and  when  within  three  miles  from  the  summit,  turned 
back  to  this  shanty  on  Truckey's  Lake;  Stanton  came  up 
one  day  after  we  arrived  here;  we  again  took  our  teams  and 
wagons,  and  made  another  unsuccessful  attempt  to  cross  in 
company  with  Stanton;  we  returned  to  this  shanty;  it  con- 
tinued to  snow  all  the  time.  We  now  have  killed  most  part 
of  our  cattle,  having  to  remain  here  until  next  spring,  and  live 
on  lean  beef,  without  bread  or  salt.  It  snowed  during  the 
space  of  eight  days,  with  little  intermission,  after  our  arriv^al, 
though  now  clear  and  pleasant,  freezing  at  night;  the  snow 
nearly  gone  from  the  valleys. 

"November  21.  Fine  morning;  wind  northwest;  twenty- 
two  of  our  company  about  starting  to  cross  the  mountains 
this  da)',  including  Stanton  and  his  Indians. 

"  Nov.  23.     Froze  last  night;  fine  and  clear  to-day;  no  ac- , 
count  from  those  on  the  mountains. 

"Nov.  23.  Same  weather;  wind  west;  the  expedition 
across  the  mountains  returned  after  an  unsuccessful  attempt. 

"Nov.  25.     Cloudy;  looks  like  the  eve  of  a  snow-storm; 


94  HISTORY    OF   THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

our  mountaineers  are  to  make  another  trial  to-morrow,  if  fair; 
froze  hard  last  night. 

"Nov.  26.  Began  to  snow  last  evening;  now  rains  or 
sleets ;  the  party  do  not  start  to-day. 

"Nov.  27.  Still  snowing;  now  about  three  feet  deep; 
wind  west;  killed  my  last  oxen  to-day;  gave  another  yoke 
to  Foster;  wood  hard  to  be  got. 

"Nov.  30.  Snowing  fast;  looks  as  likely  to  continue  as 
when  it  commenced ;  no  living  thing  without  wings  can  get 
about. 

"Dec.  I.  Still  snowing;  wind  west ;  snow  about  six  or 
seven  and  a  half  feet  deep ;  very  difficult  to  get  wood,  and  we 
are  completely  housed  up ;  our  cattle  all  killed  but  two  or 
three,  and  these,  with  the  horses  and  Stanton's  mules,  all 
supposed  to  be  lost  in  the  snow ;  no  hopes  of  finding  them 
alive. 

"  Dec.  3.  Ceases  snowing;  cloudy  all  day ;  warm  enough 
to  thaw. 

"Dec.  5.  Beautiful  sunshine;  thawing  a  little;  looks  de- 
lightful after  the  long  storm;  snow  seven  or  eight  feet  deep. 

"  Dec.  6.  The  morning  fine  and  clear;  Stanton  and  Graves 
manufacturing  snow-shoes  for  another  mountain  scrabble ;  no 
account  of  mules. 

"Dec.  8.  Fine  weather;  froze  hard  last  night;  wind 
south-west;  hard  work  to  find  wood  sufficient  to  keep  us 
warm  or  cook  our  beef. 

"Dec.  9.  Commenced  snowing  about  eleven  o'clock; 
wind  northwest;  took  in  Spitzer  yesterday,  so  weak  that  he 
^can  not  rise  without  help;  caused  by  starvation.  Some  have 
a  scanty  supply  of  beef;  Stanton  trying  to  get  some  for  him- 
self and  Indians;  not  likely  to  get  much. 

"  Dec.  10.  Snowed  fast  all  night,  with  heavy  squalls  of 
wind  ;  continues  to  snow  ;    now  about  seven  feet  in  depth. 


JACOB    CONNER  S    DEATH.  95 

"Dec.  14.  Snows  faster  than  any  previous  day;  Stanton 
and  Graves,  with  several  others,  making  preparations  to  cross 
the  mountains  on  snow-shoes ;   snow  eight  feet  on  a  level. 

"Dec.  16.  Fair  and  pleasant;  froze  hard  last  night;  the 
company  started  on  snow-shoes  to  cross  the  mountains ; 
wind  southeast. 

"Dec.  17.  Pleasant;  William  Murphy  returned  from  the 
mountain  party  last  evening;  Baylis  Williams  died  night  be- 
fore last ;  Milton  and  Noah  started  for  Donner's  eight  days 
ago;  not  returned  yet;  think  they  are  lost  in  the  snow. 

"Dec.  19.  Snowed  last  night;  thawing  to-day;  wind 
northwest;  a  little  singular  for  a  thaw. 

"  Dec.  20.  Clear  and  pleasant ;  Mrs.  Reed  here ;  no  ac- 
count from  Milton  yet.  Charles  Burger  started  for  Don- 
ner's; turned  back;  unable  to  proceed;  tough  times,  but  not 
discouraged.     Our  hope  is  in  God.     Amen. 

"Dec.  21.  Milton  got  back  last  night  from  Donner's 
camp.  Sad  news;  Jacob  Donner,  Samuel  Shoemaker, 
Rhinehart,  and  Smith  are  dead;  the  rest  of  them  in  a  low 
situation ;  snowed  all  night,  with  a  strong  southwest  wind." 

Jacob  Donner  was  the  first  to  die  at  Prosser  Creek.  He 
expired  while  sitting  at  the  table  in  his  tent,  with  his  head 
bowed  upon  his  hands,  as  if  in  deep  meditation.  The  fol- 
lowing terse  account  is  from  the  gifted  pen  of  Mrs.  S.  O. 
Houghton  (Eliza  P.  Donner),  of  San  Jose:  "Jacob  Donner 
was  a  slight  man,  of  delicate  constitution,  and  was  in  poor 
health  when  we  left  Springfield,  Illinoib.  The  trials  of  the 
journey  reduced  his  strength  and  exhausted  his  energy. 
When  we  reached  the  place  of  encampment  in  the  mountains 
he  was  discouraged  and  gave  up  in  despair.  Not  even  the 
needs  of  his  family  could  rouse  him  to  action.  He  was 
utterly  dejected  and  made  no  effort,  but  tranquilly  awaited 
^.leath." 


g6  HISTORY   OF  THE   CONNER    PARTY. 

"Dec.  23,  Clear  to-day;  Milton  took  some  of  his  meat 
away ;  all  well  at  their  camp.  Began  this  day  to  read  the 
'Thirty  Days'  Prayers;'  Almighty  God,  grant  the  requests 
of  unworthy  sinners ! 

"Dec.  24.  Rained  all  night,  and  still  continues;  poor 
prospect  for  any  kind  of  comfort,  spiritual  or  temporal." 

As  will  be  seen  by  various  references  throughout  this 
diary,  Mr.  Breen  was  a  devout  Catholic.  During  the  darkest 
hour  of  trial  the  prayers  were  regularly  read.  That  this 
might  be  done  during  the  long  weary  evenings,  as  well  as  by 
day,  pieces  of  pitch  pine  were  split  and  laid  carefully  in  one 
corner  of  the  cabin,  which  would  be  lighted  at  the  fire,  and 
would  serve  as  a  substitute  for  candles.  Those  of  the  sur- 
vivors who  are  living  often  speak  of  the  times  when  they 
held  these  sticks  while  Mr.  Breen  read  the  prayers.  So  im- 
pressive were  these  religious  observances  that  one  girl,  a 
bright,  beautiful  child,  Virginia  E.  Reed,  made  a  solemn 
vow  that  if  God  would  hear  these  prayers,  and  deliver  her 
family  from  the  dangers  surrounding  them,  she  would  be- 
come a  Catholic.  God  did  save  her  family,  and  she  kept 
her  vow.     She  is  to-day  a  fervent  Catholic. 

"Dec.  25.  Began  to  snow  yesterday,  snowed  all  night, 
and  snows  yet  rapidly;  extremely  difficult  to  find  wood; 
uttered  our  prayers  to  God  this  Christmas  morning;  the 
prospect  is  appalling,  but  we  trust  in  Him." 

What  a  desolate  Christmas  morning  that  was  for  the 
snow-bound  victims!  All  were  starving.  Something  to  eat, 
something  to  satisfy  the  terrible  cravings  of  appetite,  was  the 
constant  wish  of  all.  Sometimes  the  wishes  were  expressed 
aloud,  but  more  frequently  a  gloomy  silence  prevailed. 
When  anything  was  audibly  wished  for,  it  was  invariably 
something   whose    size    was    proportional    to    their    hunger. 


A    CHRISTMAS    DINNER.  97 

They  never  wished  for  a  meal,  or  a  mouthful,  but  for  a  barrel 
full,  a  wagon  load,  a  house  full,  or  a  storehouse  full. 

On  Christmas  eve  the  children  spoke  in  low,  subdued 
tones,  of  the  visits  Santa  Claus  used  to  make  them  in  their 
beautiful  homes,  before  they  started  across  the  plains.  Now 
they  knew  that  no  Santa  Claus  could  find  them  in  the  path- 
less depths  of  snow. 

One  family,  the  Reeds,  were  in  a  peculiarly  distressing  sit- 
uation. They  knew  not  whether  the  father  was  living  or 
dead.  No  tidings  had  reached  them  since  his  letters  ceased 
to  be  found  by  the  wayside.  The  meat  they  had  obtained 
from  the  Breen  and  Graves  families  was  now  gone,  and  on 
Christmas  morning  their  breakfast  was  a  "pot  of  glue,"  as 
the  boiled  rawhide  was  termed.  But  Mrs.  Reed,  the  dear, 
tender-hearted  mother,  had  a  surprise  in  store  for  her  chil- 
dren this  day.  When  the  last  ox  had  been  purchased,  Mrs. 
Reed  had  placed  the  frozen  meat  in  one  corner  of  the  cabin, 
so  that  pieces  could  be  chipped  off  with  a  knife  or  hatchet. 
The  tripe,  however,  she  cleaned  carefully  and  hung  on  the 
outside  of  the  cabin,  on  the  end  of  a  log,  close  to  the  ground. 
She  knew  that  the  snow  would  soon  conceal  this  from  view. 
She  also  laid  away  secretly,  one  teacupful  of  white  beans, 
about  half  that  quantity  of  rice,  the  same  measure  of  dried 
apples,  and  a  piece  of  bacon  two  inches  square.  She  knew 
that  if  Christmas  found  them  alive,  they  would  be  in  a  ter- 
ribly destitute  condition.  She  therefore  resolved  to  lay  these 
articles  away,  and  give  them  to  her  starving  children  for  a 
Christmas  dinner.  This  was  done.  The  joy  and  gladness  of 
these  poor  little  children  knew  no  bounds  when  they  saw  the 
treasures  unearthed  and  cooking  on  the  fire.  They  were,  just 
this  one  meal,  to  have  all  they  could  eat!  They  laughed, 
and  danced,  and  cried  by  turns.  They  eagerly  watched  the 
dinner  as  it  boiled.  The  pork  and  tripe  had  been  cut  in  dice- 
7 


98  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER    PARTY. 

like  pieces.  Occasionally  one  of  these  pieces  would  boil  up 
to  the  surface  of  the  water  for  an  instant,  then  a  bean  would 
take  a  peep  at  them  from  the  boiling  kettle,  then  a  piece  of 
apple,  or  a  grain  of  rice.  The  appearance  of  each  tiny  bit 
was  hailed  by  the  children  with  shouts  of  glee.  The  mother, 
whose  eyes  were  brimming  with  tears,  watched  her  famished 
darlings  with  emotions  that  can  be  imagined.  It  seemed  too 
sad  that  innocent  children  should  be  brought  to  such  destitu- 
tion that  the  very  sight  of  food  should  so  affect  them!  When 
the  dinner  was  prepared,  the  mother's  constant  injunction 
was,  "Children,  eat  slowly,  there  is  plenty  for  all."  When 
they  thought  of  the  starvation  of  to-morrow,  they  could  not 
repress  a  shade  of  sadness,  and  when  the  name  of  papa  was 
mentioned  all  burst  into  tears.  Dear,  brave  papa!  Was  he 
struggling  to  relieve  his  starving  family,  or  lying  stark  and 
dead  'neath  the  snows  of  the  Sierra  ?  This  question  was 
constantly  uppermost  in  the  mother's  mind. 

"Dec.  27.  Cleared  off  yesterday,  and  continues  clear; 
snow  nine  feet  deep ;  wood  growing  scarce ;  a  tree,  when 
felled,  sinks  into  the  snow,  and  is  hard  to  be  got  at. 

"Dec.  30.  Fine  clear  morning;  froze  hard  last  night. 
Charles  Burger  died  last  evening  about  10  o'clock. 

"Dec.  31.  Last  of  the  year.  May  we,  with  the  help  of 
God,  spend  the  coming  year  better  than  we  have  the  past, 
which  we  propose  to  do  if  it  is  the  will  of  the  Almighty  to 
deliver  us  from  our  present  dreadful  situation.  Amen.  Morn- 
ing fair,  but  cloudy;  wind  east  by  south;  looks  like  another 
snow-storm.  Snow-storms  are  dreadful  to  us.  The  snow  at 
present  is  very  deep. 

"Jan.  I,  1847.  We  pray  the  God  of  mercy  to  deliver  us 
from  our  present  calamity,  if  it  be  His  holy  will.  Commenced 
snowing  last  night,  and  snows  a  little  }'et.     Provisions  getting 


LOST   ON   THE   SUMMITS.  99 

very  scanty;  dug'  up  a  hide  from  under  the  snow  yesterday; 
have  not  commenced  on  it  yet. 

"Jan.  3.  Fair  during  the  day,  freezing  at  night.  Mrs. 
Reed  talks  of  crossing  the  mountains  with  her  children. 

"Jan.  4.  Fine  morning;  looks  like  spring.  Mrs.  Reed  and 
Virginia.  Milton  Elliott,  and  Eliza  Williams  started  a  short 
time  ago  with  the  hope  of  crossing  the  mountains ;  left  the 
children  here.  It  was  difficult  for  Mrs.  Reed  to  part  with 
them." 

This  expedition  was  only  one  of  many  that  the  emigrants 
attempted.  The  suffering  that  was  endured  at  these  times  was 
indescribable.  The  broken,  volcanic  nature  of  the  summits 
rendered  it  extremely  difficult  to  keep  from  getting  lost.  The 
white,  snowy  cliffs  were  everywhere  the  same.  This  party 
became  bewildered  and  lost  near  the  beautiful  Lake  An- 
geline,  which  is  close  to  the  present  "Summit  Station"  of  the 
Central  Pacific.  Had  they  attempted  to  proceed,  all  would 
undoubtedly  have  perished. 

Within  half  a  mile  of  the  wagon  road  which  now  extends 
from  Donner  Lake  to  the  Summit  are  places  where  rocks  and 
cliffs  are  mingled  in  wildest  confusion.  Even  in  summer  time 
it  is  difficult  to  find  one's  way  among  the  broken,  distorted 
mountain  tops.  In  the  mighty  upheaval  which  produced  the 
Sierra  Nevada,  these  vast  mounds  or  mountains  of  frowning 
granite  were  grouped  into  weird,  fantastic  labyrinths.  Time 
has  wrought  little  effect  upon  their  bold  precipitous  sides, 
and  made  slight  impress  upon  their  lofty  and  almost  inac- 
cessible crests.  Between  these  fragmentary  mountains,  in 
shapely,  symmetrical  bowls  which  have  been  delved  by  the 
fingers  of  the  water  nymphs  and  Undines,  lie  beautiful  lake- 
lets. Angeline  is  but  one  of  a  dozen  which  sparkle  like  a 
chain  of  gems  between  Donner  Lake  and  the  snowy,  over- 
hanging peaks  of  Mount  Stanford.     The  clefts  and  fissures  of 


lOO  illSTOHY   OF   THE    DONXEK    TARTY. 

the  towering  granite  cliffs  arc  filled,  in  summer,  with  dainty 
ferns,  clinging  mosses,  and  the  loveliest  of  mountain  wild 
flowers,  and  the  rims  of  the  lakelets  are  bordered  with  grasses, 
shrubbery,  and  a  wealth  of  wild  blossoms.  But  in  winter  this 
region  exhibits  the  very  grandeur  of  desolation.  No  verdure 
is  visible  save  the  dwarfed  and  shattered  pines  whose  crushed 
branches  mark  the  path  of  the  rushing  avalanche.  The  furi- 
ous winds  in  their  wild  sport  toss  and  tumble  the  snow-drifts 
here  and  there,  baring  the  sterile  peaks,  and  heaping  the 
white  masses  a  hundred  feet  deep  into  chasm  and  gorge. 
The  pure,  clear  lakes,  as  if  in  very  fear,  hide  their  faces  from 
the  turbulent  elements  in  mantles  of  ice.  The  sun  is  dark- 
ened by  dense  clouds,  and  the  icy,  shivering,  shrieking  storm- 
fiends  hold  undisturbed  their  ghastly  revels.  On  every  side 
are  lofty  battlements  of  rock,  whose  trembling  burden  of 
snow  seems  ever  ready  to  slide  from  its  glassy  foundations  of 
ice,  and  entomb  the  bewildered  traveler. 

Into  this  interminable  maze  of  rocks  and  cliffs  and  frozen 
lakelets,  the  little  party  wandered.  Elliott  had  a  compass, 
but  it  soon  proved  worthless,  and  only  added  to  their  per- 
plexed and  uncertain  state  of  mind.  They  were  out  five  days. 
Virginia's  feet  became  so  badly  frozen  that  she  could  not 
walk.  This  occurrence  saved  the  party.  Reluctantly  they 
turned  back  toward  the  cabins,  convinced  that  it  was  mad- 
ness to  attempt  to  go  forward.  They  reached  shelter  just  as 
one  of  the  most  terrible  storms  of  all  that  dreadful  winter 
broke  over  their  heads.  Had  they  delayed  their  return  a  few 
hours,  the  path  they  made  in  ascending  the  mountains,  and 
by  means  of  which  they  retraced  their  steps,  would  have  been 
concealed,  and  death  would  have  been  certain. 

"Jan.  6.  Eliza  came  back  yesterday  evening  from  the 
mountains,  unable  to  proceed;  the  others  kept  ahead. 

"Jan.  8.     Mrs.  Reed  and  the  others  came  back;  could  not 


MARY  A.  GRAVES. 

(Mrs.  J.  T.  Clark.) 
1879. 


A   STUMP    TWENTY-TWO   FEET   HIGH.  lOl 

find  their  way  on  the  other  side  of  the  mountains.  They 
have  nothing  but  hides  to  live  on. 

"Jan.  10.  Began  to  snow  last  night;  still  continues;  wind 
west-north-west. 

"Jan.  13.  Snowing  fast;  snow  higher  than  the  shanty;  it 
must  be  thirteen  feet  deep.  Can  not  get  wood  this  morning; 
it  is  a  dreadful  sight  for  us  to  look  upon." 

One  of  the  stumps  near  the  Graves-Reed  cabin,  cut  while 
the  snow  was  at  its  deepest,  was  found,  by  actual  measure- 
ment, to  be  twenty-two  feet  in  height.  Part  of  this  stump  is 
standing  to-day. 

"Jan.  14.  Cleared  off  yesterday.  The  sun,  shining  bril- 
liantly, renovates  our  spirits.    Praise  be  to  the  God  of  heaven. 

"Jan.  15.  Clear  to-day  again.  Mrs.  Murphy  blind;  Lan- 
drum  not  able  to  get  wood;  has  but  one  ax  between  him  and 
Keseberg.  It  looks  like  another  storm;  expecting  some  ac- 
count from  Sutter's  soon. 

"Jan.  17.  Eliza  Williams  came  here  this  morning;  Lan- 
drum  crazy  last  night;  provisions  scarce;  hides  our  main  sub- 
sistence.    May  the  Almighty  send  us  help. 

"Jan.  21.  Fine  morning;  John  Baptiste  and  Mr.  Denton 
came  this  morning  with  Eliza;  she  will  not  eat  hides.  Mrs. 
sent  her  back  to  live  or  die  on  them." 

The  blanks  which  occasionally  occur  were  in  the  original 
diary.  The  delicacy  which  prompted  Patrick  Breen  to  omit 
these  names  can  not  fail  to  be  appreciated.  What  if  there 
was  sometimes  a  shade  of  selfishness,  or  an  act  of  harshness? 
What  if  some  families  had  more  than  their  destitute  neighbors? 
The  best  provided  had  little.  All  were  in  reality  strangely 
generous.  All  divided  with  their  afflicted  companions.  The 
Reeds  had  almost  nothing  to  eat  when  they  arrived  at  the 
cabins,  yet  this  family  is  the  only  one  which  reached  the 


I02  HISTORY   OF   THE    CONNER   PARTY. 

settlements  without  some  one  member  having  to  partake  of 
human  flesh. 

"Jan.  22.  Began  to  snow  after  sunrise;  hkely  to  continue; 
wind  north. 

"Jan.  23.  Blew  hard  and  snowed  all  night;  the  most 
severe  storm  we  have  experienced  this  winter;  wind  west. 

"Jan.  26.  Cleared  up  yesterday;  to-day  fine  and  pleasant; 
wind  south;  in  hopes  we  are  done  with  snow-storms.  Those 
who  went  to  Sutter's  not  yet  returned;  provisions  getting 
scant;  people  growing  weak,  living  on  a  small  allowance  of 
hides. 

"Jan.  27.  Commenced  snowing  yesterday;  still  continues 
to-day.  Lewis  Keseberg,  Jr.,  died  three  days  ago;  food  grow- 
ing scarce;  don't  have  fire  enough  to  cook  our  hides. 

"Jan.  30.  Fair  and  pleasant;  wind  west;  thawing  in  the 
sun.     John  and  Edward  Breen  went  to  Graves'  this  morning. 

Mrs. seized  on  Mrs. 's  goods  until  they  would  be 

paid;  they  also  took  the  hides  which  herself  and  family  sub- 
sisted upon.  She  regained  two  pieces  only,  the  balance  they 
have  taken.  You  may  judge  from  this  what  our  fare  is  in 
camp.  There  is  nothing  to  be  had  by  hunting,  yet  perhaps 
there  soon  will  be. 

"Jan.  31.  The  sun  does  not  shine  out  brilliant  this  morn- 
ing; froze  hard  last  night;  wind  north-west.  Landrum  Mur- 
phy died  last  night  about  ten  o'clock;  Mrs.  Reed  went  to 
Graves'  this  morning  to  look  after  goods." 

Landrum  Murphy  was  a  large  and  somewhat  overgrown 
young  man.  The  hides  and  burnt  bones  did  not  contain 
sufficient  nourishment  to  keep  him  alive.  For  some  hours 
before  he  died,  he  lay  in  a  semi-delirious  state,  breathing 
heavily  and  seemingly  in  little  or  no  pain.  Mrs.  Murphy 
went  to  the  Brccn  camp,  and  asked  Mrs.  Breen  for  a  piece  of 


SEVEN  NURSING  BABES  AT  CONNER  LAKE.  IO3 

meat  to  save  her  starving  boy.  Mrs.  Breen  gave  her  the  meat, 
but  it  was  too  late,  Landrum  could  not  eat.  Finally  he  sank 
into  a  gentle  slumber.  His  breathing  grew  less  and  less  dis- 
tinct, and  ere  they  were  fairly  aware  of  it  life  was  extinct. 

"Feb.  4.  Snowed  hard  until  twelve  o'clock  last  night; 
many  uneasy  for  fear  we  shall  all  perish  with  hunger;  we  have 
but  little  meat  left,  and  only  three  hides;  Mrs.  Reed  has 
nothing  but  one  hide,  and  that  is  on  Graves'  house;  Milton 
lives  there,  and  likely  will  keep  that.  Eddy's  child  died  last 
night. 

"Feb.  5.  It  snowed  faster  last  night  and  to-day  than  it  has 
done  this  winter  before;  still  continues  without  intermission; 
wind  south-west.  Murphy's  folks  and  Keseberg  say  they  can 
not  eat  hides.  I  wish  we  had  enough  of  them.  Mrs.  Eddy 
is  very  weak. 

"Feb,  7.  Ceased  to  snow  at  last;  to-day  it  is  quite  pleas- 
ant.    McCutchen's  child  died  on  the  second  of  this  month." 

This  child  died  and  was  buried  in  the  Graves  cabin.  Mr. 
W.  C.  Graves  helped  dig  the  grave  near  one  side  of  the  cabin, 
and  laid  the  little  one  to  rest.  One  of  the  most  heart-rend- 
ing features  of  this  Donner  tragedy  is  the  number  of  in- 
fants that  suffered.  Mrs.  Breen,  Pike,  Foster,  McCutchen, 
Eddy,  Keseberg,  and  Graves  each  had  nursing  babes  when 
the  fatal  camp  was  pitched  at  Donner  Lake. 

"Feb.  8.  Fine,  clear  morning.  Spitzer  died  last  night,  and 
we  will  bury  him  in  the  snow;  Mrs,  Eddy  died  on  the  night 
of  the  seventh, 

"  Feb.  9.  Mrs.  Pike's  child  all  but  dead;  Milton  is  at  Mur- 
phy's, not  able  to  get  out  of  bed;  Mrs.  Eddy  and  child  were 
buried  to-day;  wind  south-east. 

"Feb.  10.     Beautiful  morning;  thawing  in  the  sun;  Milton 


I04 


HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER    PARTY. 


Elliott  died  last  night  at  Murphy's  cabin,  and  Mrs.  Reed  went 
there  this  morning  to  see  about  his  effects.  John  Denton  try- 
ing to  borrow  meat  for  Graves;  had  none  to  give;  they  had 
nothing  but  hides;  all  are  entirely  out  of  meat,  but  a  little  we 
have;  our  hides  are  nearly  all  eat  up,  but  with  God's  help 
spring  will  soon  smile  upon  us. 

"Feb.  12.     Warm,  thawy  morning. 

"  Feb.  14.  Fine  morning,  but  cold.  Buried  Milton  in  the 
snow;  John  Denton  not  well. 

"Feb.  15.    Morning  cloudy  until  nine  o'clock,  then  cleared 

off  warm.     Mrs. refused  to  give  Mrs. any  hides. 

Put  Sutter's  pack  hides  on  her  shanty,  and  would  not  let  her 
have  them. 

"Feb.  16.  Commenced  to  rain  last  evening,  and  turned  to 
snow  during  the  night,  and  continued  until  morning;  weather 
changeable,  sunshine  and  then  light  showers  of  hail,  and  wind 
at  times.  We  all  feel  unwell.  The  snow  is  not  getting  much 
less  at  present." 


Chapter  IX. 


The  Last  Resort — Two  Reports  of  a  Gun — Only  Temporary  Relief — Weary 
Traveling — The  Snow  Bridges — Human  Tracks  ! — An  Indian  Rancherie 
— Acorn  Bread — Starving  Five  Times!  —  Carried  Six  Miles — Bravery  of 
John  Rhodes — A  Thirty-two  Days  Journey — Organizing  the  First  Relief 
Party — Alcalde  Sinclair's  Address — Captain  R.   P.  Tucker's   Companions. 

r)T  is  recorded  of  Lewis  and   Salvador  that   they  came 
JK)  willingly    to    the    relief  of   the    emigrants.     Two   of 

'^^  Sutter's  best  trained  vaqueros,  faithful,  honest,  reliable, 

iff 
Mk   they  seemed  rather  proud  when  chosen  to  assist  Stan- 

^  ton  in  driving  the  mules  laden  with  provisions  for  the 
starving  train.  Now  they  were  dying  !  Horrified  at  the  sight 
of  human  beings  eating  the  flesh  of  their  comrades,  they 
withdrew  from  the  whites  at  the  "  Camp  of  Death."  After 
that  they  always  camped  apart,  but  continued  to  act  as 
guides  until  they  became  certain  that  their  own  lives  were  in 
danger.  Then  they  fled.  Starving,  exhausted,  with  frozen 
and  bleeding  feet,  the  poor  wretches  dragged  their  weary 
bodies  onward  until  they  reached  a  little  streamlet,  and  here 
they  lay  down  to  die.  Nine  days,  with  no  other  food  than 
they  could  find  in  the  snow,  was  too  much  even  for  their 
hardy  natures.  They  were  unable  to  move  when  the  fam- 
ished "  Seven  "  passed.     Yes,  passed  !  for  the  starving  emi- 


I06  IIISTOKY   OF   THE    DONNEK   PARTY. 

grants  went  on  by  the  poor  fellows,  unable  to  deprive  them 
of  the  little  spark  of  life  left  in  their  wasted  bodies.  Travel- 
ing was  now  slow  work  for  the  dying  whites.  They  only 
went  about  two  hundred  yards.  In  a  few  more  hours,  per- 
haps that  very  night,  they  would  die  of  starvation.  Already 
the  terrible  phantasies  of  delirium  were  beginning  to  dance 
before  their  sunken  eyes.  Ere  the  Indians  would  cease 
breathing  some  of  the  Seven  would  be  past  relief.  There 
were  two  men  and  five  women.  William  Foster  could  see 
that  his  wife — the  woman  who  was  all  the  world  to  him — 
was  fast  yielding  to  the  deadly  grasp  of  the  fiends  of  starva- 
tion. For  the  sake  of  his  life  she  had  stifled  the  most  sacred 
instincts  of  her  womanly  nature,  and  procured  him  food 
from  Fosdick's  body.  Should  he  see  her  die  the  most  ter- 
rible of  deaths  without  attempting  to  rescue  her?  Reader, 
put  yourself  in  this  man's  place.  Brave,  generous,  heroic, 
full  of  lion-like  nobility,  William  Foster  could  not  stoop  to  a 
base  action.  Contemplate  his  position  !  Lying  there  pros- 
trate upon  the  snow  was  Mrs.  Pike,  the  woman  whom,  acci- 
dentally, he  had  rendered  a  widow.  Her  babes  were  dying 
in  the  cabins.  His  own  boy  was  at  the  cabins.  His  com- 
rades, his  wife,  were  in  the  last  stages  of  starvation.  He, 
also,  was  dying.  Eddy  had  not  nerve  enough,  the  women 
could  not,  and  William  Foster  must — what !  Was  it  murder? 
No  !  Every  law  book,  every  precept  of  that  higher  law,  self- 
preservation,  every  dictate  of  right,  reason  or  humanity,  de- 
manded the  deed.  The  Indians  were  past  all  hope  of  aid. 
They  could  not  lift  their  heads  from  their  pillow  of  snow. 
It  was  not  simply  justifiable — it  was  duty;  it  was  a  necessity. 
He  told  them,  when  he  got  back,  that  he  was  compelled 
to  take  their  lives.  They  did  not  moan  or  struggle,  or 
appear  to  regret  that  their  lingering  pain  was  to  cease.  The 
five  women  and  Eddy  heard  two  reports  of  a  gun. 


WEARY   TRAVELING.  IO7 

The  "Forlorn  Hope"  might  yet  save  those  who  were 
dying  at  Donner  Lake. 

Even  this  relief  was  but  temporary.  Taking  the  wasted 
flesh  from  the  bones,  drying  it,  and  staggering  forward,  the 
little  band  speedily  realized  that  they  were  not  yet  saved.  It 
was  food  for  only  a  few  days.  Then  they  again  felt  their 
strength  failing.  Once  more. they  endured  the  excruciating 
torments  which  precede  starvation. 

In  the  very  complete  account  of  this  trip,  which  is  kindly 
furnished  by  Mary  Graves,  are  many  interesting  particulars 
concerning  the  suffering  of  these  days.  "  Our  only  chance 
for  camp-fire  for  the  night,"  she  says,  "was  to  hunt  a  dead 
tree  of  some  description,  and  set  fire  to  it.  The  hemlock 
being  the  best  and  generally  much  the  largest  timber,  it 
was  our  custom  to  select  the  driest  we  could  find  without 
leaving  our  course.  When  the  fire  would  reach  the  top  of 
the  tree,  the  falling  limbs  would  fall  all  around  us  and  bury 
themselves  in  the  snow,  but  we  heeded  them  not.  Some- 
times the  falling,  blazing  limbs  would  brush  our  clothes,  but 
they  never  hit  us;  that  would  have  been  too  lucky  a  hit. 
We  would  sit  or  lie  on  the  snow,  and  rest  our  weary  frames. 
We  would  sleep,  only  to  dream  of  something  nice  to  eat, 
and  awake  again  to  disappointment.  Such  was  our  sad 
fate  !  Even  the  reindeer's  wretched  lot  was  not  worse  !  '  His 
dinner  and  his  bed  were  snow,  and  supper  he  had  not.'  Our 
fare  v/as  the  same !  We  would  strike  fire  by  means  of  the 
flint-lock  gun  which  we  had  with  us.  This  had  to  be  carried 
by  turns,  as  it  was  considered  the  only  hope  left  in  case  we 
might  find  game  which  we  could  kill.  We  traveled  over  a 
ridge  of  mountains,  and  then  descended  a  deep  canyon, 
where  one  could  scarcely  see  the  bottom.  Down,  down  we 
would  go,  or  rather  slide,  for  it  is  very  slavish  work  going 
down  hill,  and  iji  many  cases  we  were  compelled  to  slide  on 


I08  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

our  shoes  as  sleds.  On  reaching  the  bottom  we  would  plunge 
into  the  snow,  so  that  it  was  difficult  getting  out,  with  the 
shoes  tied  to  our  feet,  our  packs  lashed  to  our  backs,  and 
ourselves  head  and  ears  under  the  snow.  But  we  managed 
to  get  out  some  way,  and  one  by  one  reached  the  bottom  of 
the  canyon.  When  this  was  accomplished  we  had  to  ascend 
a  hill  as  steep  as  the  one  we  had  descended.  We  would 
drive  the  toes  of  our  shoes  into  the  loose  snow,  to  make  a 
sort  of  step,  and  one  by  one,  as  if  ascending  stair-steps,  we 
climbed  up.  It  took  us  an  entire  day  to  reach  the  top  of 
the  mountain.  Each  time  we  attained  the  summit  of  a 
mountain,  we  hoped  we  should  be  able  to  see  something  like 
a  valley,  but  each  time  came  disappointment,  for  far  ahead 
was  always  another  and  higher  mountain.  We  found  some 
springs,  or,  as  we  called  them,  wells,  from  five  to  twenty  feet 
under  ground,  as  you  might  say,  for  they  were  under  the 
snow  on  which  we  walked.  The  water  was  so  warm  that  it 
melted  the  snow,  and  from  some  of  these  springs  were  large 
streams  of  running  water.  We  crossed  numbers  of  these 
streams  on  bridges  of  snow,  which  would  sometimes  form 
upon  a  blade  of  grass  hanging  over  the  water;  and  from  so 
small  a  foundation" would  grow  a  bridge  from  ten  to  twenty- 
five  feet  high,  and  from  a  foot  and  a  half  to  three  feet  across 
the  top.  It  would  make  you  dizzy  to  look  down  at  the 
water,  and  it  was  with  much  difficulty  we  could  place  our 
clumsy  ox-bow  snow-shoes  one  ahead  of  the  other  without 
falling.  Our  feet  had  been  frozen  and  thawed  so  many  times 
that  they  were  bleeding  and  sore.  When  we  stopped  at 
night  we  would  take  off  our  shoes,  which  by  this  time  were 
so  badly  rotted  by  constant  wetting  in  snow,  that  there  was 
very  little  left  of  them.  In  the  morning  we  would  push  our 
shoes  on,  bruising  and  numbing  the  feet  so  badly  that  they 
would  ache  and  ache  with  walking  and  the  cold,  until  night 


ACORN   BREAD.  IO9 

would  come  again.  Oh  !  the  pain  !  It  seemed  to  make  the 
pangs  of  hunger  more  excruciating." 

Thus  the  party  traveled  on  day  after  day,  until  absolute 
starvation  again  stared  them  in  the  face.  The  snow  had 
gradually  grown  less  deep,  until  finally  it  disappeared  or  lay 
only  in  patches.  Their  strength  was  well-nigh  exhausted, 
when  one  day  Mary  Graves  says :  "  Some  one  called  out, 
'Here  are  tracks!'  Some  one  asked,  'What  kind  of  tracks — 
human?'  'Yes,  human!'  Can  any  one  imagine  the  joy 
these  footprints  gave  us?  We  ran  as  fast  as  our  strength 
would  carry  us." 

Turning  a  chaparral  point,  they  came  in  full  view  of  an 
Indian  rancherie.  The  uncivilized  savages  were  amazed. 
Never  had  they  seen  such  forlorn,  wretched,  pitiable  human 
beings,  as  the  tattered,  disheveled,  skeleton  creatures  who 
stood  stretching  out  their  arms  for  assistance.  At  first,  they 
all  ran  and  hid,  but  soon  they  returned  to  the  aid  of  these 
dying  wretches.  It  is  said  that  the  Indian  women  and  chil- 
dren cried,  and  wailed  with  grief  at  the  affecting  spectacle  of 
starved  men  and  women.  Such  food  as  they  had  was  speedily 
offered.  It  was  bread  made  of  acorns.  This  was  eagerly 
eaten.  It  was  at  least  a  substitute  for  food.  Every  person 
in  the  rancherie,  from  the  toddling  papooses  to  the  aged  chief, 
endeavored  to  aid  them. 

After  what  had  recently  happened,  could  anything  be  more 
touching  than  these  acts  of  kindness  of  the  Indians? 

After  briefly  resting,  they  pressed  forward.  The  Indians 
accompanied  and  even  led  them,  and  constantly  supplied 
them  with  food.  With  food?  No,  it  was  not  such  food  as 
their  weakened,  debilitated  systems  craved.  The  acorn  bread 
was  not  sufficient  to  sustain  lives  already  so  attenuated  by 
repeated  starvations.  All  that  the  starved  experience  in  the 
way  of  pain  and  torture  before  they  die,  had  been  experi- 


I  lO  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER   PARTY. 

enccd  by  these  people  at  least  four  different  times.  To  their 
horror,  they  now  discovered  that  despite  the  acorn  bread, 
they  must  die  of  hunger  and  exhaustion  a  fifth  and  last  time. 
So  sick  and  weak  did  they  become,  that  they  were  compelled 
to  lie  down  and  rest  every  hundred  yards.  Finally,  after  be- 
ing with  the  Indians  seven  days,  they  lay  down,  and  felt  that 
they  never  should  have  strength  to  take  another  step.  Be- 
fore them,  in  all  its  beauty  and  loveliness,  spread  the  broad 
valley  of  the  Sacramento.  Behind  them  were  the  ever-plead- 
ing faces  of  their  starving  dear  ones.  Yet  neither  hope  nor 
affection  could  give  them  further  strength.  They  were  dying 
in  full  view  of  the  long-desired  haven  of  rest. 

One  of  the  number  was  hardly  so  near  death's  door  as  his 
companions.  It  was  W.  H.  Eddy.  As  a  last  resort,  their 
faithful  allies,  the  Indians,  took  him  upon  either  side,  and 
fairly  carried  him  along.  His  feet  moved,  but  they  were 
frozen,  and  blistered,  and  cracked,  and  bleeding.  Left  alone, 
he  would  have  fallen  helplessly  to  the  earth.  It  was  as  terri- 
ble a  journey  as  ever  mortal  man  performed.  How  far  he 
traveled,  he  knew  not.  During  the  last  six  miles  his  path 
was  marked  by  blood-stains  from  his  swollen  feet. 

By  making  abridgments  from  valuable  manuscript  contrib- 
uted by  George  W.  Tucker,  of  Calistoga,  this  narrative  may 
be  appropriately  continued.  Mr.  Tucker's  father  and  rela- 
tives had  reached  Johnson's  Ranch  on  the  twenty-fifth  of 
October,  1846.  They  had  been  with  the  Donner  Party  until 
Fort  Bridger  was  reached,  and  then  took  the  Fort  Hall  road. 
Their  journey  had  been  full  of  dangers  and  difficulties,  and 
reaching  Johnson's  Ranch,  the  first  settlement  on  the  west 
side  of  the  Sierra,  they  determined' to  remain  during  the 
winter. 

One  evening,  about  the  last  of  January,  Mr.  Tucker  says  a 
man  was  seen  coming  down  Bear  River,  accompanied  by  an 


REASIN  P.  TUCKER. 

1881. 


ORGANIZING   THE    FIRST   RELIEF   PARTY.  I  I  i 

Indian,  His  haggard,  forlorn  look  showed  he  was  in  great 
distress.  When  he  reached  us,  he  said  he  was  of  the  Donner 
Party.  He  told  briefly  how  the  train  had  been  caught  in  the 
snow  east  of  the  mountains,  and  was  unable  to  get  back  or 
forward.  H!e  told  how  the  fifteen  had  started,  and  that  six 
beside  himself  were  still  alive.  That  the  six  were  back  in  the 
mountains,  almost  starved.  R.  P.  Tucker  and  three  other 
men  started  at  once  with  provisions,  the  Indian  acting  as 
guide.  They  reached  them,  fifteen  miles  back,  some  time 
during  the  night,  and  brought  them  in  the  next  day.  The 
names  of  the  seven  were  W.  H.  Eddy,  William  Foster,  Mrs. 
S.  A.  C.  Foster,  Mrs.  H.  F.  Pike,  Mrs.  William  McCutchen, 
Mrs.  Sarah  P'osdick,  and  Mary  Graves.  It  had  been  thirty- 
two  days  since  they  left  Donner  Lake! 

At  Johnson's  Ranch  there  were  only  three  or  four  families 
of  poor  emigrants.  Nothing  could  be  done  toward  relieving 
those  at  Donner  Lake  until  help  could  arrive  from  Sutter's 
Fort.  A  rainy  winter  had  flooded  Bear  River,  and  rendered 
the  Sacramento  plains  a  vast  quagmire.  Yet  one  man  volun- 
teered to  go  to  Sacramento  with  the  tale  of  horror,  and  get 
men  and  provisions.  This  man  was  John  Rhodes.  Lashing 
two  pine  logs  together  with  rawhides,  and  forming  a  raft, 
John  Rhodes  was  ferried  over  Bear  River.  Taking  his  shoes 
in  his  hands,  and  rolling  his  pants  up  above  his  knees,  he 
started  on  foot  through  water  that  frequently  was  from  one 
to  three  feet  deep.  Some  time  during  the  night  he  reached 
the  Fort. 

A  train  in  the  mountains!  Men,  women,  and  children 
starving!  It  was  enough  to  make  one's  blood  curdle  to  think 
of  it!  Captain  Sutter,  generous  old  soul,  and  Alcalde  Sin- 
clair, who  lived  at  Norris'  Ranch  two  and  a  half  miles  from 
the  Fort,  offered  provisions,  and  five  or  six  men  volunteered 
to  carry  them   over  the   mountains.     In  about  a  Vv^eek,  six 


I  1 2  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER    PARTY. 

men,  fully  provided  with  supplies,  reached  Johnson's  Ranch. 
Meantime  the  Tuckers  and  their  neighbors  had  slaughtered 
five  or  six  fat  cattle,  and  had  dried  or  "jerked"  the  meal. 
The  country  was  scoured  for  horses  and  mules,  and  for  sad- 
dles and  pack-saddles,  but  at  last,  in  ten  or  twelve  days,  they 
were  ready  to  start.  Alcalde  Sinclair  had  come  up  from  the 
Fort,  and  when  all  were  ready  to  begin  their  march,  he  made 
them  a  thrilling  little  address.  They  were,  he  said,  starting 
out  upon  a  hazardous  journey.  Nothing  could  justify  them 
in  attempting  so  perilous  an  undertaking  except  the  obliga- 
tions due  to  their  suffering  fellow-men.  He  urged  them  to  do 
all  in  their  power,  without  sacrificing  their  lives,  to  save  the 
perishing  emigrants  from  starvation  and  death.  He  then  ap- 
pointed Reasin  P.  Tucker,  the  father  of  our  informant,  captain 
of  the  company.  With  a  pencil  he  carefully  wrote  down  the 
name  of  each  man  in  the  relief  party.  The  names  were  John 
Rhodes,  Daniel  Rhodes,  Aquilla  Glover,  R.  S.  Mootrey,  Jo- 
seph Foster,  Edward  Coffeemire,  M.  D.  Ritchie,  James  Cur- 
tis, William  H.  Eddy,  William  Coon,  R.  P.  Tucker,  George 
W.  Tucker,  and  Adolph  Brueheim.  Thus  the  first  relief  party 
started. 


Chapter  X. 


A  Lost  Age  in  California  History — The  Change  Wrought  by  the  Discovery  of 
Gold — The  Start  from  Johnson's  Ranch — A  Bucking  Horse — A  Night  Ride 
— Lost  in  the  Mountains — A  Terrible  Night — A  Flooded  Camp — Crossing 
a  Mountain  Torrent — Mule  Springs — A  Crazy  Companion — Howlings  of 
Gray  Wolves — A  Deer  Rendezvous — A  Midnight  Thief^Frightening  In- 
dians— The  Diary  of  the  First  Relief  Party. 

^^^ALIFORNIA,  at  this  time,  was  sparsely  settled,  and  it 
M^ll  was  a  fearful  undertaking  to  cross  the  snowy  mount- 
*|^»|'  ains  to  the  relief  of  the  storm-bound  emigrants.  A 
dm;  better  idea  of  the  difficulties  to  be  encountered  by  the 
'{^  various  relief  parties  can  not  be  presented  than  by 
quoting  from  the  manuscript  of  George  W.  Tucker.  This 
gentleman  was  sixteen  years  old  at  the  time  of  the  occur- 
rences narrated,  and  his  account  is  vouched  for  as  perfectly 
truthful  and  reliable.  This  sketch,  like  the  remainder  of  this 
book,  treats  of  an  epoch  in  California  history  which  has 
been  almost  forgotten.  The  scene  of  his  adventures  is  laid 
in  a  region  familiar  to  thousands  of  miners  and  early  Cali- 
fornians.  Along  the  route  over  which  he  passed  with  so 
much  difficulty,  scores  of  mining  camps  sprung  up  soon  after 
the  discovery  of  gold,  and  every  flat,  ravine,  and  hill-slope 
echoed  to  pick,  and  shovel,  and  pan,  and  to  voices  of  legions 


114  HISTORY  OF   THE    DONNER   PARTY. 

of  men.  Truly,  his  narration  relates  to  a  lost,  an  almost  un- 
remembered  era  in  the  history  of  the  famous  mining  coun- 
ties, Placer  and  Nevada.  In  speaking  of  the  first  relief  party, 
he  says: 

"We  mounted  our  horses  and  started.  The  ground  was 
very  soft  among  the  foothills,  but  we  got  along  very  well  for 
two  or  three  miles  after  leaving  Johnson's  ranch.  Finally, 
one  of  our  pack-horses  broke  through  the  crust,  and  down 
he  went  to  his  sides  in  the  mud.  He  floundered  and  plunged 
until  the  pack  turned  underneath  his  body.  He  then  came 
out  of  the  mud,  bucking  and  kicking;  and  he  bucked  and 
kicked,  and  kicked  and  bucked,  till  he  cleared  himself  of  the 
pack,  pack-saddle  and  all,  and  away  he  went  back  to  the 
ranch.  We  gathered  up  the  pack,  put  it  upon  the  horse 
Eddy  was  riding,  and  the  party  traveled  on.  Eddy  and  my- 
self were  to  go  back  to  the  ranch,  catch  the  horse,  and  return- 
ing, overtake  them.  We  failed  to  find  the  horse  that  day,  but 
the  next  morning  an  Indian  got  on  my  horse,  and,  about  nine 
o'clock,  succeeded  in  finding  the  missing  animal.  My  horse, 
however,  was  pretty  well  run  down  when  he  got  back.  Eddy 
and  myself  started  about  ten  o'clock.  We  had  to  travel  in 
one  day  what  the  company  had  traveled  in  two  days.  About 
the  time  we  started  it  commenced  clouding  up,  and  we  saw 
we  were  going  to  have  a  storm.  We  went  on  until  about  one 
o'clock,  when  my  horse  gave  out.  It  commenced  raining  and 
was  very  cold.  Eddy  said  he  would  ride  on  and  overtake  the 
company,  if  possible,  and  have  them  stop.  He  did  not  over- 
take them  until  about  dark,  after  they  had  camped. 

"  My  horse  could  only  go  in  a  slow  walk,  so  I  walked  and 
led  him  to  keep  from  freezing.  The  rain  continued  to  in- 
crease in  volume,  and  by  dark  it  was  coming  down  in  torrents. 
It  was  very  cold.  The  little  stream  began  to  rise,  but  I  waded 
through,  though   sometimes  it  came  up  to  my  armpits.     It 


A   TERRIBLE    NIGHT.  II5 

was  very  dark,  but  I  kept  going  on  in  hopes  I  would  come  in 
sight  of  the  camp-fire.  But  the  darkness  increased,  and  it 
was  very  difficult  to  find  the  road.  I  would  get  down  on  my 
knees  and  feel  for  the  road  with  my  hands.  Finally,  about 
nine  o'clock,  it  became  so  dark  that  I  could  not  sec  a  tree 
until  I  would  run  against  it,  and  I  was  almost  exhausted 
dragging  my  horse  after  me.  I  had  lost  the  road  several 
times,  but  found  it  by  feeling  for  the  wagon-ruts.  At  last  I 
came  to  where  the  road  made  a  short  turn  around  the  point 
of  a  hill,  and  I  went  straight  ahead  until  I  got  forty  or  fifty 
yards  from  the  road.  I  crawled  around  for  some  time  on  my 
knees,  but  could  not  find  it.  I  knew  if  the  storm  was  raging 
in  the  morning  as  it  was  then,  if  I  got  very  far  from  the  road, 
I  could  not  tell  which  was  east,  west,  north,  or  south,  I  might 
get  lost  and  perish  before  the  storm  ceased,  so  I  concluded  to 
stay  right  there  until  morning.  I  had  no  blanket,  and  nothing 
on  me  but  a  very  light  coat  and  pair  of  pants.  I  tied  my 
horse  to  a  little  pine  tree,  and  sitting  down,  leaned  against 
the  tree.  The  rain  came  down  in  sheets.  The  wind  blew, 
and  the  old  pine  trees  clashed  their  limbs  together.  It  seemed 
to  me  that  a  second  deluge  had  come.  I  would  get  so  cold 
that  I  would  get  up  and  walk  around  for  a  while.  It  seemed 
to  me  I  should  surely  freeze.  Toward  morning  I  began  to 
get  numb,  and  felt  more  comfortable,  but  that  was  the  longest 
and  hardest  night  I  ever  experienced. 

"  In  the  morning,  when  it  became  light  enough  so  that  I 
could  see  two  or  three  rods,  I  got  up,  but  my  legs  were  so 
numb  that  I  could  not  walk.  I  roiled  around  until  I  got  up 
a  circulation,  and  could  stand  on  my  feet.  Leaving  my  horse 
tied  to  the  tree,  I  found  the  road,  went  about  a  hundred  yards 
around  the  point  of  a  hill,  and  saw  the  camp-fire  up  in  a  little 
flat  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  where  I  had  spent  the 
night.     Going  up  to  camp,  1  found  the  men  all  standing 


Il6  HISTORY   OF   THE    DOXXER   PARTY. 

around  a  fire  they  had  made,  where  two  large  pines  had 
fallen  across  each  other.  They  had  laid  down  pine  bark  and 
pieces  of  wood  to  keep  them  out  of  the  water.  They  had 
stood  up  all  night.  The  water  was  running  two  or  three 
inches  deep  all  through  the  camp.  When  I  got  to  the  fire, 
and  began  to  get  warm,  my  legs  and  arms  began  to  swell  so 
that  I  could  hardly  move  or  get  my  hands  to  my  face. 

"  It  never  ceased  raining  all  that  day  nor  the  next  night, 
and  we  were  obliged  to  stand  around  the  fire.  Everything 
we  had  was  wet.  They  had  stacked  up  our  dried  beef  and 
flour  in  a  pile,  and  put  the  saddles  and  pack  saddles  over  it 
as  well  as  they  could,  but  still  it  got  more  or  less  wet.  The 
third  morning  it  stopped  raining  about  daylight,  and  the  sun 
came  out  clear  and  warm.  We  made  scaffolds  and  spread 
our  meat  all  out,  hung  up  our  blankets  and  clothing  on  lines, 
and  by  keeping  up  fires  and  with  the  help  of  the  sun,  we 
managed  to  get  everything  dry  by  night.  The  next  morning 
we  packed  up  and  started  on  until  we  came  to  a  little  valley, 
where  we  found  some  grass  for  our  horses.  We  stayed  there 
that  night.  The  next  day  we  got  to  Steep  Hollow  Creek, 
one  of  the  branches  of  Bear  River.  This  stream  was  not 
more  than  a  hundred  feet  wide,  but  it  was  about  twenty  feet 
deep,  and  the  current  was  very  swift.  We  felled  a  large  pine 
tree  across  it,  but  the  center  swayed  down  so  that  the  water 
ran  over  it  about  a  foot  deep.  We  tied  ropes  together  and 
stretched  them  across  to  make  a  kind  of  hand  railing,  and 
succeeded  in  carrying  over  all  our  things.  We  undertook  to 
make  our  horses  swim  the  creek,  and  finally  forced  two  of 
them  into  the  stream,  but  as  soon  as  they  struck  the  current 
they  were  carried  down  faster  than  we  could  run.  One  of 
them  at  last  reached  the  bank  and  got  ashore,  but  the  other 
went  down  under  the  tree  we  had  cut,  and  the  first  we  saw  of 
him  he  came  up  about  twenty  yards  below,  heels  upward. 


A    CRAZY   COMPANION.  I  I  / 

He  finally  struck  a  drift  about  a  hundred  yards  below,  and 
we  succeeded  in  getting  him  out  almost  drowned.  We  then 
tied  ropes  together,  part  of  the  men  went  over,  and  tying  a 
rope  to  each  horse,  those  on  one  side  would  force  him  into 
the  water,  and  the  others  would  draw  him  across.  We  lost 
a  half  day  at  this  place.  That  night  we  climbed  a  high 
mountain,  and  came  to  snow.  Camped  that  night  without 
any  feed  for  our  horses.  The  next  day,  about  noon,  we 
;  reached  Mule  Springs.  The  snow  was  from  three  to  four 
•'  feet  deep,  and  it  was  impossible  to  go  any  farther  with  the 
horses.  Unpacking  the  animals,  Joe  Varro  and  Wm.  Eddy 
started  back  with  them  to  Johnson's  Ranch.  The  rest  of  us 
went  to  work  and  built  a  brush  tent  in  which  to  keep  our 
provisions.  We  set  forks  into  the  ground,  laid  poles  across, 
and  covered  them  with  cedar  boughs.  We  finished  them 
that  evening,  and  the  next  morning  ten  of  the  men  fixed  up 
their  packs,  consisting  of  dried  beef  and  flour,  and  started  on 
foot,  each  one  carrying  about  seventy-five  pounds.  They  left 
Billy  Coon  and  myself  to  watch  the  provisions  until  they  re- 
turned. I  have  never  been  in  that  country  since,  but  I  think 
Mule  Springs  is  on  the  opposite  side  of  Bear  River  from 
Dutch  Flat. 

"After  the  men  had  all  gone,  I  amused  myself  the  first  day 
by  getting  wood  and  cutting  cedar  limbs  to  finish  our  camp 
with.  My  companion,  Billy  Coon,  was  partially  insane,  and 
was  no  company  at  all.  He  would  get  up  in  the  morning, 
eat  his  food,  and  then  lie  down  and  sleep  for  two  or  three 
hours.  He  would  only  talk  when  he  was  spoken  to;  and  all 
he  knew  was  to  sleep  and  eat.  I  got  very  lonesome,  and 
would  sit  for  hours  thinking  of  our  situation.  Sixty  miles 
from  any  human  habitation!  Surrounded  with  wild  Indians 
and  wild  beasts!  Then,  when  I  would  look  away  at  the 
snow-capped  peaks  of  the  Sierra,  and  think  that  my  father 


1  I  8  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER    PARTY. 

and  the  rest  of  the  men  where  there,  toihng  under  the  heavy 
loads  which  they  carried,  I  became  still  more  gloomy.  When 
night  would  come,  the  big  gray  wolves  that  had  collected  on 
the  mountains  facing  to  the  south,  where  the  snow  had 
melted  off,  would  set  up  their  howlings.  This,  with  the  dis- 
mal sound  of  the  wind  roaring  through  the  tall  pine  trees, 
was  almost  unendurable.  To  this  day,  when  I  am  in  pine 
timber,  and  hear  the  wind  sighing  through  the  tree-tops,  I 
always  think  of  the  Donner  Party  and  of  those  lonely  days 
in  the  mountains. 

"The  third  day  after  the  men  left  I  became  so  lonesome 
that  I  took  the  gun  and  went  down  in  the  direction  in  which 
I  had  heard  the  wolves  howling.  When  I  got  down  out  oi 
the  snow,  I  found  the  deer  had  collected  there  by  the  hun- 
dreds. I  killed  two  deer;  went  up  and  got  Billy  Coon,  and 
we  carried  them  up  to  camp.  We  hung  one  on  each  corner 
of  our  brush  tent,  not  more  than  six  feet  from  our  bed,  and 
not  more  than  four  feet  from  the  fire.  Next  morning  one  of 
the  deer  was  gone!  I  supposed  the  Indians  had  found  us  out 
and  stolen  it;  but  when  I  looked  for  tracks  I  found  the  thief 
had  been  a  California  lion.  I  tracked  him  two  or  three  hun- 
dred yards,  but  he  had  walked  off  with  the  deer  so  easily,  I 
thought  he  might  keep  it.  That  afternoon  I  went  down  to 
kill  another  deer,  but  when  I  reached  a  point  from  which  I 
could  see  down  to  the  river,  I  saw  the  smoke  of  an  Indian 
camp,  I  was  afraid  to  shoot  for  fear  the  Indians  would  hear 
the  gun,  and  finding  out  we  were  there,  would  come  up  and 
give  us  trouble,  I  started  back,  and  when  in  sight  of  camp 
I  sat  down  on  a  log  to  rest.  While  sitting  there  I  saw  three 
Indians  coming  up  the  hill,  I  sat  still  to  see  what  they  would 
do.  They  came  up  to  within  sight  of  the  camp,  and  all 
crawled  up  behind  a  large  sugar-pine  tree,  and  sat  there 
watching    the    camp.      I  did   not  like  their    movements,  so 


THE    DIARY    OF   THE    FIRST    RELIEF    PARTY.  I  1 9 

thought  I  would  give  them  a  scare.  I  leveled  the  old  gun  at 
the  tree,  about  six  feet  above  their  heads,  and  fired  avvay. 
They  got  away  from  there  faster  than  they  came,  and  I  never 
saw  them  afterwards. 

"  On  the  fifth  day  after  the  men  left,  three  of  them  came 
back  to  the  camp.  They  informed  me  they  had  been  three 
days  in  traveling  from  Mule  Springs  to  Bear  Valley,  a  dis- 
tance of  twelve  miles.  These  three  had  found  it  impossible 
to  stand  the  journey,  but  the  other  seven  had  started  on 
from  Bear  Valley.  It  was  thought  they  could  never  get 
over  to  Truckle  Lake,  for  the  snow  was  so  soft  it  was  im- 
possible to  carry  their  heavy  loads  through  from  ten  to  thirty 
feet  of  it." 

M.  D.  Ritchie  and  R.  P.  Tucker  kept  a  diary  of  the  jour- 
ney of  the  first  relief  party,  which,  thanks  to  Patty  Reed, 
now  Mrs.  Frank  Lewis,  is  before  us.  It  is  brief,  concise, 
pointed,  and  completes  the  narration  of  Mr.  George  W. 
Tucker.     Mr.  Ritchie's  diary  reads: 

"Feb.  5,  1847.  First  day  traveled  ten  miles.  Bad  roads; 
often  miring  down  horses  and  mules.  On  the  sixth  and  sev- 
enth traveled  fifteen  miles.  Road  continued  bad;  commenced 
raining  before  we  got  to  camp,  and  continued  to  rain  all  that 
day  and  night  very  severe.  Lay  by  here  on  the  eighth  to 
dry  our  provisions  and  clothing. 

"Feb.  9.  Traveled  fifteen  miles.  Swam  the  animals  over 
one  creek,  and  carried  the  provisions  over  on  a  log. 

"Feb.  10.  Traveled  four  miles;  came  to  the  snow;  contin- 
ued about  four  miles  further.  Animals  floundering  in  snow, 
and  camped  at  the  Mule  Springs. 

"Feb.  II.  Mr.  Eddy  started  back  with  the  animals;  left 
William  Coon  and  George  Tucker  to  guard  what  provisions 
were  left  in  camp;  the  other  ten  men,  each  taking  about  fifty 
pounds,   except    Mr.    Curtis,    who    took    about   twenty-five 


120  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER   PARTY. 

pounds.  Traveled  on  through  the  snow,  having  a  very  severe 
day's  travel  over  mountains,  making  about  six  miles.  Camped 
on  Bear  River,  near  a  cluster  of  large  pines. 

"Feb.  12.  Moved  camp  about  two  miles,  and  stopped  to 
make  snow-shoes ;  tried  them  on  and  found  them  of  no  ben- 
efit; cast  them  away. 

"Feb.  13.  Made  Bear  Valley.  Upon  digging  for  Curtis' 
wagon,  found  the  snow  ten  feet  deep,  and  the  provisions  de- 
stroyed by  the  bears.     Rain  and  snow  fell  on  us  all  night." 

By  Curtis'  wagon  is  meant  a  cache  made  by  Reed  and  Mc- 
Cutchen,  which  will  be  described  in  the  next  chapter. 

"Feb.  14.     Fine  weather." 

From  this  time  forward,  the  journal  was  kept  by  Reasin  P. 
Tucker. 

"Feb.  15.  Fine  day.  Three  of  our  men  decline  going 
any  further — W.  D.  Ritchie,  A.  Brueheim,  and  James  Curtis. 
Only  seven  men  being  left,  the  party  was  somewhat  discour- 
aged. We  consulted  together,  and  under  existing  circum- 
stances I  took  it  upon  .myself  to  insure  every  man  who 
persevered  to  the  end,  five  dollars  per  day  from  the  time  they 
entered  the  snow.  We  determined  to  go  ahead,  and  camped 
to-night  on  Yuba  River,  after  traveling  fifteen  miles. 

"Feb.  16.  Traveling  very  bad,  and  snowing.  Made  but 
five  miles,  and  camped  in  snow  fifteen  feet  deep. 

"Feb.  17.     Traveled  five  miles. 

"Feb.  18.  Traveled  eight  miles,  and  camped  on  the  head 
of  the  Yuba ;  on  the  pass  we  suppose  the  snow  to  be  thirty 
feet  deep." 

The  "pass"  was  the  Summit.  Relief  was  close  at  hand. 
Would  it  find  the  cmifrrants? 


Chapter  XL 


Hardships  of  Reed  and  Herron — Generosity  of  Captain  Sutter — Attempts  to 
Cross  the  Mountains  with  Provisions — Curtis'  Dog — Compelled  to  Turn 
Back — Hostilities  with  Mexico — Memorial  to  Gov.  Stockton — Verba  Buena's 
Generosity — Johnson's  Liberality — Pitiful  Scenes  at  Donner  Lake — Noble 
Mothers — Dying  rather  than  Eat  Human  Flesh — A  Mother's  Prayer — 
Tears  of  Joy — Eating  the  Shoestrings. 

^^i^AMES  F.  REED  encountered  the  most  disheartening 

m|)|^  trials  after  leaving  the  Donner  Party.     He  and  Walter 

^^^^  Herron  were  reduced  to  the  utmost  verge  of  starvation 

/|H|)     while  on  the  Sierra  Nevada.     At  one  time  they  dis- 

|>  covered  five  beans  in  the  road,  one  after  the  other; 
and  at  another  time  they  ate  of  the  rancid  tallow  which  was 
found  in  a  tar  bucket  under  an  old  wagon. 

Mr.  Reed  has  told  the  rest  in  an  article  contributed  by 
him  to  the  Rural  Press.  It  explains  so  well  the  difficulties 
of  getting  relief  to  the  emigrants,  that  it  is  copied: 

"When  I  arrived  at  Captain  Sutter's,  making  known  my 
situation  to  him,  asking  if  he  would  furnish  me  horses  and 
saddles  to  bring  the  women  and  children  out  of  the  moun- 
tains (I  expected  to  meet  them  at  the  head  of  Bear  Valley 
by  the  time  I  could  return  there),  he  at  once  complied  with 
the  request,  also  saying  that  he  would  do  everything  possible 


122  HISTORY   OF  THE   DONNER    PARTY. 

for  me  and  the  company.  On  the  evening  of  my  arrival  at 
the  Captain's,  I  found  Messrs.  Bryant,  Lippencott,  Grayson, 
and  Jacobs,  some  of  the  early  voyagers  in  the  Russel  Com- 
pany, they  having  left  that  company  at  Fort  Laramie,  most 
of  them  coming  on  horseback. 

"  During  the  evening  a  meeting  was  held,  in  which  I  par- 
ticipated, adopting  a  memorial  to  the  commander  of  Sutter's 
Fort,  to  raise  one  or  more  companies  of  volunteers,  to  pro- 
ceed to  Los  Angeles,  we  being  at  war  with  Mexico  at  this 
time.  The  companies  were  to  be  officered  by  the  petitioners. 
Being  requested  to  take  command  of  one  of  the  companies, 
I  declined,  stating  that  it  would  be  necessary  for  the  captain 
to  stay  with  the  company;  also  that  I  had  to  return  to  the 
mountains  for  the  emigrants,  but  that  I  would  take  a  lieu- 
tenancy. This  was  agreed  to,  and  I  was  on  my  return  to 
the  emigrants  to  enlist  all  the  men  I  could  between  there  and 
Bear  Valley.    On  my  way  up  I  enlisted  twelve  or  thirteen. 

"The  second  night  after  my  arrival  at  Captain  Sutter's,  we 
had  a  light  rain;  next  morning  we  could  see  snow  on  the 
mountains.  The  Captain  stated  that  it  was  low  down  and 
heavy  for  the  first  fall  of  the  season.  The  next  day  I  started 
on  my  return  with  what  horses  and  saddles  Captain  Sutter 
had  to  spare.  He  furnished  us  all  the  flour  needed,  and  a 
hind  quarter  of  beef,  giving  us  an  order  for  more  horses  and 
saddles  at  Mr.  Cordway's,  near  where  Marysville  is  located. 
In  the  mean  time,  Mr.  McCutchen  joined  us,  he  being  pre- 
vented from  returning  with  Mr.  Stanton  on  account  of  sick- 
ness. After  leaving  Mr.  Johnson's  ranch  we  had  thirty  horses, 
one  mule,  and  two  Indians  to  help  drive. 

"  Nothing  happened  until  the  evening  before  reaching  the 
head  of  Bear  Valley,  when  there  commenced  a  heavy  rain 
and  sleet,  continuing  all  night.  We  drove  on  until  a  late 
hour  before  halting.     We  secured  the  flour  and  horses,  the 


C.  T.  STANTON. 

Photographed  from  an  OH  Painting'. 
1844. 


COMPELLED   TO   TURN    BACK.  1 23 

rain  preventing  us  from  kindling  a  fire.  Next  morning,  pro- 
ceeding up  the  valley  to  where  we  were  to  take  the  mountain, 
we  found  a  tent  containing  a  Mr.  Curtis  and  .wife.  They 
hailed  us  as  angels  sent  for  their  delivery,  stating  that  they 
would  have  perished  had  it  not  been  for  our  arrival.  Mrs. 
Curtis  stated  that  they  had  killed  their  dog,  and  at  the  time 
of  our  arrival  had  the  last  piece  in  the  Dutch  oven  baking. 
We  told  them  not  to  be  alarmed  about  anything  to  eat,  for 
we  had  plenty,  both  of  flour  and  beef,  and  that  they  were 
welcome  to  all  they  needed.  Our  appetites  were  rather  keen, 
not  having  eaten  anything  from  the  morning  previous.  Mr. 
Curtis  remarked  that  in  the  oven  was  a  piece  of  the  dog  and 
we  could  have  it.  Raising  the  lid  of  the  oven,  we  found  the 
dog  well  baked,  and  having  a  fine  savory  smell.  I  cut  out  a  rib, 
smelling  and  tasting,  found  it  to  be  good,  and  handed  it  over 
to  McCutchen,  who,  after  smelling  it  some  time,  tasted  it  and 
pronounced  it  very  good  dog.  We  partook  of  Curtis'  dog. 
Mrs.  Curtis  immediately  commenced  making  bread,  and  in  a 
short  time  had  supper  for  all. 

"At  the  lower  end  of  the  valley,  where  we  entered,  the 
snow  was  eighteen  inches  in  depth,  and  when  we  arrived  at 
the  tent,  it  was  two  feet.  Curtis  stated  that  his  oxen  had 
taken  the  back  track,  and  that  he  had  followed  them  by  the 
trail  through  the  snow.  In  the  morning,  before  leaving,  Mrs. 
Curtis  got  us  to  promise  to  take  them  into  the  settlement 
when  on  our  return  with  the  women  and  children.  Before 
leaving,  we  gave  them  flour  and  beef  sufficient  to  keep  them 
until  our  return,  expecting  to  do  so  in  a  few  days. 

"We  started,  following  the  trail  made  by  the  oxen,  and 
camped  a  number  of  miles  up  the  mountain.  In  the  night, 
hearing  some  of  the  horses  going  down  the  trail,  we  went  to 
where  the  Indians  had  lain  down,  and  found  them  gone. 
McCutchen    mounted  his  horse   and  rode  down   to  Curtis' 


124  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

camp,  and  found  that  the  Indians  had  been  there,  stopped 
and  warmed  them.selves,  and  then  started  down  the  valley. 
He  returned  to  camp  about  the  middle  of  the  night. 

"  Next  morning  we  started,  still  on  the  trail  of  the  oxen, 
but  unfortunately,  the  trail  turned  off  to  the  left  from  our 
direction.  We  proceeded  on,  the  snow  deepening  rapidly, 
our  horses  struggling  to  get  through;  we  pushed  them  on 
until  they  would  rear  upon  their  hind  feet  to  breast  the  snow, 
and  when  they  would  alight  they  would  sink  in  it  until 
nothing  was  seen  of  them  but  the  nose  and  a  portion  of  the 
head.  Here  we  found  that  it  was  utterly  impossible  to  pro- 
ceed further  with  the  horses.  Leaving  them,  we  proceeded 
further  on  foot,  thinking  that  we  could  get  in  to  the  people, 
but  found  that  impossible,  the  snow  being  soft  and  deep. 

"  I  may  here  state  that  neither  of  us  knew  anything  about 
snow-shoes,  having  always  lived  in  a  country  where  they 
never  were  used. 

"  With  sorrowful  hearts,  we  arrived  that  night  at  the  camp 
of  Mr.  Curtis,  telling  them  to  make  their  arrangements  for 
leaving  with  us  in  the  morning.  Securing  our  flour  in  the 
wagon  of  Mr.  Curtis,  so  that  we  could  get  it  on  our  return, 
we  packed  one  horse  with  articles  belonging  to  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Curtis,  and  started  down  the  valley  to  where  the  snow  was 
light,  and  where  there  was  considerable  underbrush,  so  that 
our  famished  animals  could  browse,  they  not  having  eaten 
anything  for  several  days. 

"After  packing  Mr,  Curtis'  horse  for  him  the  next  morn- 
ing, we  started;  in  a  short  time,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Curtis  pro- 
ceeded ahead,  leaving  the  pack-horse  behind  for  us  to  drive, 
instead  of  his  leading  him;  we  having  our  hands  full  in  driv- 
ing the  loose  ones,  they  scattering  in  all  directions.  The 
pack  turned  on  the  horse.  Mr.  Curtis  was  requested  to  re- 
turn and  help  repack  and  lead  his  horse,  but  he  paid  no  at- 


HOSTILITIES   WITH    MEXICO.  1 25 

tention  to  us.  We  stood  this  for  some  time;  finally, 
McCutchen  became  angry,  started  after  him,  determined  to 
bring  him  back;  when  he  got  with  him  he  paid  no  attention 
to  McCutchen's  request  to  return;  Mac  becoming  more 
exasperated,  hit  him  several  times  over  the  shoulders  with 
his  riatta.  This  brought  him  to  his  senses.  He  said  that  if 
Mac  would  not  kill  him,  he  would  come  back  and  take  care 
of  the  pack  animal,  and  he  did. 

"As  soon  as  we  arrived  at  Captain  Sutter's,  I  made  a  state- 
ment of  all  the  circumstances  attending  our  attempt  to  get 
into  the  mountains.  He  was  no  way  surprised  at  our  defeat. 
I  also  gave  the  Captain  the  number  of  head  of  cattle  the 
company  had  when  I  left  them.  He  made  an  estimate,  and 
stated  that  if  the  emigrants  would  kill  the  cattle,  and  place 
the  meat  in  the  snow  for  preservation,  there  was  no  fear  of 
starvation  until  relief  could  reach  them.  He  further  stated  ' 
that  there  were  no  able-bodied  men  in  that  vicinity,  all  hav- 
ing gone  down  the  country  with  and  after  Fremont  to  fight 
the  Mexicans.  He  advised  me  to  proceed  to  Yerba  Buena, 
now  San  Francisco,  and  make  my  case  known  to  the  naval 
officer  in  command. 

"  I  left  Captain  Sutter's,  by  the  way  of  San  Jose,  for  San 
Francisco,  being  unable  to  come  by  water.  When  I  arrived 
at  San  Jose,  I  found  the  San  Francisco  side  of  the  bay  was 
occupied  by  the  Mexicans.  Here  I  remained,  and  was  at- 
tached to  a  company  of  volunteers,  commanded  by  Captain 
Webber,  until  after  the  fight  at  Santa  Clara. 

"  The  road  now  being  clear,  I  proceeded  to  San  Francisco 
with  a  petition  from  some  of  the  prominent  citizens  of  San 
Jose,  asking  the  commander  of  the  navy  to  grant  aid  to  en- 
able me  to  return  to  the  mountains." 

It  is  proper,  perhaps,  to  interrupt  the  narrative  in  the  Rural 
Press  for  the  purpose  of  introducing  the  memorial  referred  to 


126  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER    PARTY. 

by  Mr.  Reed.     The  copy  of  the  original  document  was  re- 
cently found  among  his  papers  by  his  daughter,  Patty  Reed. 

"To  his  Excellency,  R.  F.  Stockton,  Governor  and  Com- 
mander-in-Chief, by  sea  and  land,  of  the  United  States  Terri- 
tory of  California:  We,  the  undersigned  citizens  and  residents 
of  the  Territory  of  California,  beg  leave  respectfully  to  pre- 
sent to  your  Excellency  the  following  memorial,  viz.:  That, 
whereas,  the  last  detachment  of  emigrants  from  the  United 
States  to  California  have  been  unable,  from  unavoidable 
causes,  to  reach  the  frontier  settlements,  and  are  now  in  the 
California  mountains,  seventy-five  or  one  hundred  miles  east 
from  the  Sacramento  Valley,  surrounded  by  snow,  most 
probably  twenty  feet  deep,  and  being  about  eighty  souls  in 
number,  a  large  proportion  of  whom  are  women  and  chil- 
dren, who  must  shortly  be  in  a  famishing  condition  from 
scarcity  of  provisions,  therefore,  the  undersigned  most  earn- 
estly beseech  your  Excellency  to  take  into  consideration  the 
propriety  of  fitting  out  an  expedition  to  proceed  on  snow- 
shoes  immediately  to  the  relief  of  the  sufferers.  Your  memo- 
rialists beg  leave  to  subscribe  themselves,  very  respectfully, 
yours,  etc. 

"January,  1847." 

The  article  in  the  Rural  Press  continues:  "Arriving  at  San 
Francisco,  I  presented  my  petition  to  Commodore  Hull,  also 
making  a  statement  of  the  condition  of  the  people  in  the 
mountains  as  far  as  I  knew,  the  number  of  them,  and  what 
would  be  needed  in  provisions  and  help  to  get  them  out.  He 
made  an  estimate  of  the  expense,  and  said  that  he  would  do 
an)-thing  within  reason  to  further  the  object,  but  was  afraid 
that  the  department  at  Washington  would  not  sustain  him  if 
he  made  the  general  outfit.  His  sympathy  was  that  of  a  man 
and  a  gentleman. 


JOHNSONS    LIBERALITY.  12/ 

"  I  also  conferred  with  several  of  the  citizens  of  Verba 
Buena;  their  advice  was  not  to  trouble  the  Commodore  fur- 
ther ;  that  they  would  call  a  meeting  of  the  citizens  and  see 
what  could  be  done.  At  the  meeting,  the  situation  of  the 
people  was  made  known,  and  committees  were  appointed  to 
collect  money.  Over  a  thousand  dollars  was  raised  in  the 
town,  and  the  sailors  of  the  fleet  gave  over  three  hundred  dol- 
lars. At  the  meeting,  Midshipman  Woodworth  volunteered 
to  go  into  the  mountains.  Commodore  Hull  gave  me  au- 
thority to  raise  as  many  men,  with  horses,  as  would  be  re- 
quired.   The  citizens  purchased  all  the  supplies  necessary  for 

the  outfit,  and  placed  them  on  board  the  schooner ,  for 

Hardy's  Ranch,  mouth  of  Feather  River.  Midshipman  Wood- 
worth  took  charge  of  the  schooner,  and  was  the  financial 
agent  of  the  government. 

"  I  left  in  a  boat  for  Napa  by  way  of  Sonoma,  to  procure 
men  and  horses,  and  when  I  arrived  at  Mr.  Gordon's,  on 
Cache  Creek,  I  had  all  the  men  and  horses  needed.  From 
here  I  proceeded  to  the  mouth  of  Feather  River  for  the  pur- 
pose of  meeting  Mr.  Woodworth  with  the  provisions.  When 
we  reached  the  river  the  boat  had  not  arrived.  The  water 
was  very  high  in  the  river,  the  tule  lands  being  overflowed. 
From  here  I  sent  a  man  to  a  point  on  the  Sacramento  River 
opposite  Sutter's  Fort,  to  obtain  information  of  the  boat  with 
our  provisions ;  he  returned  and  reported  the  arrival  of  the 
boat  at  the  Fort. 

"  Before  leaving  Yerba  Buena,  news  came  of  a  party  of  fif- 
teen persons  having  started  from  the  emigrant  encampment, 
and  only  seven  getting  to  Johnson's.  I  was  here  placed  in  a 
quandary — no  boat  to  take  us  across  the  river,  and  no  pro- 
visions for  our  party  to  take  into  the  mountains.  We  camped 
a  short  distance  back  from  the  river,  where  we  killed  a  num- 
ber of  elk  for  the  purpose  of  using  the  skins  in  covering  a 


128  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER    PARTY. 

skeleton  boat.  Early  next  morning  we  started  for  the  river, 
and  to  our  delight  saw  a  small  schooner,  belonging  to  Perry 
McCan,  which  had  arrived  during  the  night.  We  immedi- 
ately crossed,  McCutchen  and  myself,  to  the  opposite  bank 
of  the  river.  I  directed  the  men  to  cross  and  follow  us  to 
Johnson's  Ranch.  We  arrived  there  early  that  day.  Making 
known  our  situation,  he  drove  his  cattle  up  to  the  house,  say- 
ing, 'There  are  the  cattle,  take  as  many  as  you  need.'  We 
shot  down  five  head,  staid  up  all  night,  and  with  the  help  of 
Mr.  Johnson  and  his  Indians,  by  the  time  the  men  arrived  the 
next  morning,  we  had  the  meat  fire-dried  and  ready  to  be 
placed  in  bags.  Mr.  Johnson  had  a  party  of  Indians  making 
flour  by  hand  mills,  they  making,  during  the  night,  nearly 
two  hundred  pounds. 

"  We  packed  up  immediately  and  started.  After  reaching 
the  snow,  the  meat  and  flour  was  divided  into  suitable  packs 
for  us  to  carry,  we  leaving  the  horses  here.  At  Johnson's  I 
learned  that  a  relief  party  had  passed  in  a  few  days  previous, 
being  sent  by  Captain  Sutter  and  Mr.  Sinclair." 

This  was  the  party  commanded  by  Captain  Reasin  P. 
Tucker,  whose  journey  over  the  mountains  as  far  as  the  sum- 
mit was  described  in  the  last  chapter.  Reed  was  faithful  and 
energetic  in  endeavoring  to  recross  the  mountains.  Mr.  Mc- 
Cutchen, also,  did  all  in  his  power  to  reach  the  wife  and  baby 
he  left  behind.  The  snow  belt  is  about  four  times  as  wide 
on  the  west  side  of  the  summit  as  it  is  on  the  east  side.  It 
was  almost  impossible  for  relief  parties  to  cross  the  moun- 
tains. Captain  Tucker's  party  was  composed  of  men  of  great 
ner\'e  and  hardihood,  yet,  as  will  be  seen,  the  trip  was  almost 
as  much  as  their  lives  were  worth. 

On  the  morning  of  the  nineteenth  of  February,  1847,  the 
relief  party  of  Captain  R.  P.  Tucker  began  the  descent  of  the 
gorge  leading  to  Donner  Lake. 


NOBLE    MOTHERS.  ICQ 

Let  US  glance  ahead  at  the  picture  soon  to  be  unfolded  to 
their  gaze.  The  mid-winter  snows  had  almost  concealed  the 
cabins.  The  inmates  lived  subterranean  lives.  Steps  cut  in 
the  icy  snow  led  up  from  the  doorways  to  the  surface.  Deep 
despair  had  settled  upon  all  hearts.  The  dead  were  lying  all 
around,  some  even  unburied,  and  nearly  all  with  only  a  cov- 
ering of  snow.  So  weak  and  powerless  had  the  emigrants 
become,  that  it  was  hardly  possible  for  them  to  lift  the  dead 
bodies  up  the  steps  out  of  the  cabins.  All  were  reduced  to 
mere  skeletons.  They  had  lived  on  pieces  of  rawhide,  or  on 
old,  castaway  bones,  which  were  boiled  or  burned  until  capa- 
ble of  being  eaten.-  They  were  so  reduced  that  it  seemed  as 
if  only  a  dry,  shriveled  skin  covered  their  emaciated  frames. 
The  eyes  were  sunken  deep  in  their  sockets,  and  had  a  fierce, 
ghastly,  demoniacal  look.  The  faces  were  haggard,  woe- 
begone, and  sepulchral.  One  seldom  heard  the  sound  of  a 
voice,  and  when  heard,  it  was  weak,  tremulous,  pitiful. 
Sometimes  a  child  would  moan  and  sob  for  a  mouthful  of 
food,  and  the  poor,  helpless  mothers,  with  breaking  hearts, 
would  have  to  soothe  them,  as  best  they  could,  with  kind 
words  and  tender  caresses.  Food,  there  was  none.  Oh! 
what  words  can  fitly  frame  a  tribute  for  those  noble  mothers! 
When  strong  men  gave  up,  and  passively  awaited  the  delirium 
of  death,  the  mothers  were  actively  administering  to  the  wants 
of  the  dying,  and  striving  to  cheer  and  comfort  the  living. 
Marble  monuments  never  bore  more  heroic  names  than  those 
of  Margaret  W.  Reed,  Lavina  Murphy,  Elizabeth  Graves, 
Margaret  Breen,  Tamsen  Donner,  and  Elizabeth  Donner. 
Their  charity,  fortitude,  and  self-sacrifice  failed  not  in  the 
darkest  hour.  Death  came  so  often  now,  that  little  notice 
was  taken  of  his  approach,  save  by  these  mothers.  A  dread- 
ful want  of  consciousness  precedes  starvation.  The  actual 
death  is  not  so  terrible      The  delirious  would  rave  of  feasts, 

Q 


130  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER   PARTY, 

and  rich  viands,  and  bountiful  stores  of  food.  As  the  shad- 
ows of  death  more  closely  enveloped  the  poor  creatures,  the 
mutterings  grew  unintelligible,  and  were  interrupted,  now  and 
then,  by  startled  cries  of  frenzy,  which  gradually  grew 
ainter,  until  the  victims  finally  slumbered.  From  this 
slumber  there  was  no  awakening.  The  breathing  became 
feebler  and  more  irregular,  and  finally  ceased.  It  was  not  so 
terrible  to  the  unconscious  dying,  as  to  the  weeping  mother 
who  watched  by  the  sufferer's  side. 

It  was  always  dark  and  gloomy  enough  in  the  snow- 
covered  cabins,  but  during  the  fierce,  wild  storms,  the  desola- 
tion became  almost  unendurable.  The  rushing  gale,  the 
furious  storm,  the  lashing  of  storm-rent  pine  boughs,  or  the 
crash  of  giant  trees  overthrown  by  the  hurricane,  filled  the 
souls  of  the  imprisoned  emigrants  with  nameless  dread. 
Sometimes  the  silent  darkness  of  the  night  would  shudder 
with  the  howl  of  the  great  gray  wolves  which  in  those  days 
infested  the  mountains.  Too  well  did  they  know  that  these 
gaunt  beasts  were  howling  for  the  bodies  of  the  living  as  well 
as  of  the  dead. 

Wood  grew  plentifully  at  short  distances  from  the  cabins, 
but  for  these  vv^eak,  starving  creatures  to  obtain  it  was  a 
herculean  task.  To  go  out  when  the  storms  were  raging, 
would  be  almost  impossible  for  a  well,  strong  man.  To 
struggle  through  the  deep,  loose  drifts,  reaching  frequently 
to  the  waist,  required,  at  any  time,  fearful  exertion.  The 
numb,  fleshless  fingers  could  hardly  guide,  or  even  wield 
the  ax.  Near  the  site  of  the  Breen  cabin,  to-day,  stands  a 
silent  witness  of  the  almost  superhuman  exertions  that  were 
made  to  procure  fuel.  On  the  side  of  a  pine  tree  are  old 
seams  and  gashes,  which,  by  their  irregular  position,  were 
evidently  made  by  hands  too  weak  to  cut  down  a  tr^e.  Hun- 
dreds   of    blows,  however,  were  struck,  and  the   marks   of 


DYING    RATHER   THAN   EAT   HUMAN   FLESH.  I31 

the  ax-blade  extend  up  and  down  the  side  of  the  tree  for  a 
foot  and  a  half.  Bark  seared  with  age  has  partly  covered 
portions  of  the  cuts,  but  in  one  place  the  incision  is  some 
inches  deep.  At  the  foot  of  this  pine  was  found  a  short,  de- 
cayed ax-handle,  and  a  broad-bladed,  old-fashioned  ax-head. 
The  mute  story  of  these  witnesses  is  unmistakable.  The  poor 
starved  being  who  undertook  the  task,  never  succeeded. 

Trees  felled,  frequently  buried  themselves  out  of  sight  in 
the  loose  snow,  or  at  best,  only  the  uppermost  branches 
could  be  obtained.  Without  fire,  without  food,  without 
proper  shelter  from  the  dampness  occasioned  by  the  melting 
snows,  in  the  bitter,  biting  wintry  weather,  the  men,  women, 
and  children  were  huddled  together,  the  living  and  the  dead. 
When  Milton  Elliott  died,  there  were  no  men  to  assist  in  re- 
moving the  body  from  the  deep  pit.  Mrs.  Reed  and  her 
daughter,  Virginia,  bravely  undertook  the  task.  Tugging, 
pushing,  lifting  as  best  they  could,  the  corpse  was  raised  up 
the  icy  steps.  He  died  in  the  Murphy  cabin  by  the  rock.  A 
few  days  before  he  died,  he  crawled  over  to  the  Breen  cabin, 
where  were  Mrs.  Reed  and  her  children.  For  years  he  had 
been  one  of  the  members  of  this  family.  He  worked  for 
Mr.  Reed  in  the  mill  and  furniture  establishment  owned  by 
^ihe  latter  in  Jamestown,  Illinois.  He  drove  the  same  yoke 
of  oxen,  "Bully"  and  "George,"  who  were  the  wheel-oxen 
of  Reed's  family  team  on  the  plains.  When  Mr.  Reed  pro- 
posed crossing  the  plains,  his  wife  and  children  refused  to  go, 
unless  Milt,  could  be  induced  to  drive.  He  was  a  kind,  care- 
ful man,  and  after  I\Ir.  Reed  had  been  driven  away  from  the 
company,  Elliott  always  provided  for  them  as  best  he  was 
able.  Now  that  he  was  going  to  die,  he  wanted  to  see  "  Ma  " 
and  the  children  once  more.  "Ma"  was  the  term  he  always 
used  in  addressing  Mrs.  Reed.  None  realized  better  than  he 
the  sorrowful  position  in  which  she  was  placed  by  having  no 


132  HISTORY   OF   THE    CONNER   PARTY. 

husband  upon  whom  to  lean  in  this  time  of  great  need.  Poor 
Elliott!  he  knew  that  he  was  starving!  stamng!  "Ma,  I  am 
not  going  to  starve  to  death,  I  am  going  to  eat  of  the  bodies 
of  the  dead."  This  is  what  he  told  Mrs.  Reed,  yet  when  he 
attempted  to  do  so,  his  heart  revolted  at  the  thought.  Mrs. 
Reed  accompanied  him  a  portion  of  the  way  back  to  the 
Murphy  cabin,  and  before  leaving  him,  knelt  on  the  snow 
and  prayed  as  only  a  mother  can,  that  the  Good  Father 
would  help  them  in  this  hour  of  distress.  It  was  a  starving 
Christian  mother  praying  that  relief  might  come  to  her  starv- 
ing children,  and  especially  to  this,  her  starving  boy.  From 
the  granite  rocks,  the  solemn  forests,  and  the  snow-mantled 
mountains  of  Donner  Lake,  a  more  fervent  prayer  never 
ascended  heavenward.  Could  Elliott  have  heard,  in  his 
dying  moments,  that  this  prayer  was  soon  to  be  answered, 
so  far  as  Mrs.  Reed  and  her  little  ones  were  concerned,  he 
would  have  welcomed  death  joyfully. 

As  time  wore  wearily  on,  another  and  more  severe  trial 
awaited  Mrs.  Reed.  Her  daughter  Virginia  was  dying.  The 
innutritions  rawhide  was  not  sufficient  to  sustain  life  in  the 
poor,  famished  body  of  the  delicate  child.  Indeed,  toward 
the  last,  her  system  became  so  debilitated  that  she  found  it 
impossible  to  eat  the  loathsome,  glue-like  preparation  which 
formed  their  only  food.  Silently  she  had  endured  her  suffer- 
ings, until  she  was  at  the  very  portals  of  death.  This  beauti- 
ful girl  was  a  great  favorite  of  Mrs.  Breen's.  Oftentimes 
during  the  days  of  horror  and  despair,  this  good  Irish  mother 
had  managed,  unobserved,  to  slip  an  extra  piece  of  meat  or 
morsel  of  food  to  Virginia.  Mrs.  Breen  was  the  first  to  dis- 
cover that  the  mark  of  death  was  visible  upon  the  girl's  brow. 
In  order  to  break  the  news  to  Mrs.  Reed,  without  giving  those 
in  the  cabin  a  shock  which  might  prove  fatal,  Mrs.  Breen 
asked  the  mother  up  out  of  the  cabin  on  the  crisp,  white  snow. 


TEARS    OF  JOY.  133 

It  was  the  evening  of  the  nineteenth  of  February,  1847. 
The  sun  was  setting,  and  his  rays,  in  long,  lance-like  lines, 
sifted  through  the  darkening  forests.  Far  to  the  eastward, 
the  summits  of  the  Washoe  mountains  lay  bathed  in  golden 
sunlight,  while  the  deep  gorges  at  their  feet  were  purpling 
into  night.  The  gentle  breeze  which  crept  over  the  bosom 
of  the  ice-bound  lake,  softly  wafted  from  the  tree-tops  a  muf- 
fled dirge  for  the  dying  girl.  Ere  another  day  dawned  over 
the  expanse  of  snow,  her  spirit  would  pass  to  a  haven  of 
peace  where  the  demons  of  famine  could  never  enter. 

In  the  desolate  cabin,  all  was  silence.  Living  under  the 
snow,  passing  an  underground  life,  as  it  were,  seldom  visiting 
each  other,  or  leaving  the  cabins,  these  poor  prisoners  learned 
to  listen  rather  than  look  for  relief.  During  the  first  days 
they  watched  hour  after  hour  the  upper  end  of  the  lake  where 
the  "fifteen"  had  disappeared.  With  aching  eyes  and  weary 
hearts,  they  always  turned  back  to  their  subterranean  abodes 
disappointed.  Hope  finally  deserted  the  strongest  hearts. 
The  brave  mothers  had  constantly  encouraged  the  despond- 
ent by  speaking  of  the  promised  relief,  yet  this  was  prompted 
more  by  the  necessities  of  the  situation  than  from  any  belief 
that  help  would  arrive.  It  was  human  nature,  however,  to 
glance  toward  the  towering  summits  whenever  they  ascended 
to  the  surface  of  the  snow,  and  to  listen  at  all  times  for  an 
unfamiliar  sound  or  footstep.  So  delicate  became  their  sense 
of  hearing,  that  every  noise  of  the  wind,  every  visitor's  tread, 
every  sound  that  ordinarily  occurred  above  their  heads,  was 
known  and  instantly  detected. 

On  this  evening,  as  the  two  women  were  sobbing  despair- 
ingly upon  the  snow,  the  silence  of  the  twilight  was  broken 
by  a  shout  from  near  Donner  Lake!  In  an  instant  every 
person  forgot  weakness  and  infirmity,  and  clambered  up  the 
stairway!     It  was  a  strange  voice,  and  in  the  distance  they 


134  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER   PARTY. 

discovered  strange  forms  approaching.  The  Reed  and  the 
Breen  children  thought,  at  first,  that  it  was  a  band  of  Indians, 
but  Patrick  Breen,  the  good  old  father,  soon  declared  that 
the  strangers  were  white  men.  Captain  Tucker  and  his  men 
had  found  the  wide  expanse  of  snow  covering  forest  and 
lake,  and  had  shouted  to  attract  attention,  if  any  of  the  emi- 
grants yet  survived.  Oh!  what  joy!  There  were  tears  in 
other  eyes  than  those  of  the  little  children.  The  strong  men 
of  the  relief  party  sat  down  on  the  snow  and  wept  with  the 
rest.  It  is  related  of  one  or  two  mothers,  and  can  readily  be 
believed,  that  their  first  act  was  to  fall  upon  their  knees,  and 
with  faces  turned  to  God,  to  pour  out  their  gratitude  to  Him 
for  having  brought  assistance  to  their  dying  children.  Vir- 
ginia Reed  did  not  die. 

Captain  Reasin  P.  Tucker,  who  had  been  acquainted  with 
the  Graves  family  on  the  plains  before  the  Donner  Party 
took  the  Hastings  Cut-off,  was  anxious  to  meet  them.  They 
lived  in  the  lower  cabin,  half  a  mile  further  down  Donner 
Creek.  When  he  came  close  enough  to  observe  the  smoke 
issuing  from  the  hole  in  the  snow  which  marked  their  abode, 
he  shouted,  as  he  had  done  at  the  upper  cabins.  The  effect 
was  as  electrical  as  in  the  former  instance.  All  came  up  to 
the  surface,  and  the  same  unrestrained  gladness  was  mani- 
fested by  the  famished  prisoners.  Famished  they  were.  Mrs. 
Graves  is  especially  praised  by  the  survivors  for  her  unstinted 
charity.  Instead  of  selfishly  hoarding  her  stores  and  feeding 
only  her  own  children,  she  was  generous  to  a  fault,  and  no 
person  ever  asked  at  her  door  for  food  who  did  not  receive 
as  good  as  she  and  her  little  ones  had  to  eat. 

Dear  Mrs.  Graves  !  How  earnestly  she  asked  about  her 
husband  and  daughters!  Did  all  reach  the  valley?  Captain 
Tucker  felt  his  heart  rise  in  his  throat.  How  could  he  tell 
this  weak,  starved  woman  of  the  terrible  fate  which  had  be- 


EATING   THE   SHOESTRINGS.  1 35 

fallen  her  husband  and  her  son-in-law  !  He  could  not !  He 
answered  with  assumed  cheerfulness  in  the  affirmative.  So, 
too,  they  deceived  Mrs.  Murphy  regarding  her  dear  boy 
Lemuel.  It  was  best.  Had  the  dreadful .  truth  been  told, 
not  one  of  all  this  company  would  ever  have  had  courage  to 
attempt  the  dangerous  journey. 

Little  sleep  was  there  in  the  Donner  cabins  that  night. 
The  relief  party  were  to  start  back  in  a  couple  of  days,  and 
such  as  were  strong  enough  were  to  accompany  them.  Mrs. 
Graves  had  four  little  children,  and  told  her  son  William  C. 
Graves  that  he  must  remain  with  her  to  cut  wood  to  keep 
the  little  ones  from  freezing.  But  William  was  anxious  to 
go  and  help  send  back  provisions  to  his  mother.  So  earnestly 
did  he  work  during  the  next  two  days,  that  he  had  two  cords 
of  wood  piled  up  near  the  cabin.  This  was  to  last  until  he 
could  return.  His  task  was  less  difficult  because  this  cabin 
was  built  in  a  dense  grove  of  tamarack. 

Food  had  been  given  in  small  quantities  to  the  sufferers. 
Many  of  the  snow-bound  prisoners  were  so  near  death's  door 
that  a  hearty  meal  would  have  proven  fatal.  The  remnant 
of  provisions  brought  by  the  relief  party  was  carefully 
guarded  lest  some  of  the  famished  wretches  should  obtain 
more  than  was  allotted  them.  This  was  rendered  easier  from 
the  fact  that  the  members  of  the  relief  party  were  unable  to 
endure  the  scenes  of  misery  and  destitution  in  the  cabins,  and 
so  camped  outside  upon  the  snow.  So  hungry  were  the 
poor  people  that  some  of  them  ate  the  strings  of  the  snow- 
shoes  which  part  of  the  relief  company  had  brought  along. 

On  the  twentieth  of  February,  John  Rhodes,  R.  S.  Mootry, 
and  R.  P.  Tucker  visited  the  Donner  tents  on  Alder  Creek, 
seven  miles  from  the  cabins.  Only  one  ox-hide  remained  to 
these  destitute  beings.  Here,  as  well  as  at  the  cabins,  the 
all-important  question  was,  who  should  go  with  the  relief 


136  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

party  and  who  remain.  In  each  family  there  were  little 
children  who  could  not  go  unless  carried.  Few  of  the  Don- 
ner  Party  had  more  than  enough  strength  to  travel  unen- 
cumbered across  the  deep  snows.  Should  a  storm  occur  on 
the  mountains,  it  was  doubtful  if  even  the  members  of  the 
relief  party  could  escape  death.  It  was  hopefully  urged  that 
other  relief  parties  would  soon  arrive  from  California,  and 
that  these  would  bring  over  those  who  remained.  In  de- 
termining who  should  go  and  who  stay,  examples  of  heroism 
and  devotion  were  furnished  which  were  never  surpassed  in 
the  history  of  man.  Could  their  vision  have  penetrated  the 
veil  which  interposed  between  them  and  the  sad  occurrences 
about  to  ensue,  they  would  have  known  that  almost  every 
family,  whose  members  separated,  was  bidding  good-by  to 
some  member  forever. 


Chapter  XIL 


A  Wife's  Devotion — Tamsen  Donner's  Early  Life — The  Early  Settlers  of  San- 
gamon County — An  Incident  in  School — Teaching  and  Knitting — School 
Discipline  —  Captain  George  Donner's  Appearance  —  Parting  Scenes  at 
Alder  Creek — Starting  over  the  Mountains — A  Baby's  Death — A  Mason's 
Vow — Crossing  the  Snow  Barrier — More  Precious  than  Gold  or  Diamonds 
— Elitha  Donner's  Kindness. 


PRS.  TAMSEN  DONNER  was  well  and  compara- 

f,m^  tively  strong,  and   could  easily  have  crossed   the 

"^J""^^  mountains  in  safety  with  this  party.     Her  husband, 

^jl^        however,  was  suffering  from  a  serious  swelling  on 

^  one  of  his  hands.     Some  time  before  reaching  the 

mountains  he  had  accidentally  hurt  this  hand  while  handling 

a  wagon.     After  encamping  at  Alder  Creek  he  was  anxious 

to  assist  in  the  arrangements  and  preparations  for  winter,  and 

while  thus  working  the  old  wound  reopened.    Taking  cold  in 

the  hand,  it  became  greatly  swollen  and   inflamed,  and  he 

was  rendered  entirely  helpless.     Mrs.  Donner  was  urged  to 

go  with  the  relief  party,  but  resolutely  determined  to  heed 

the   promptings    of    wifely   devotion    and    remain    by    her 

husband. 

No   one  will  ever  read  the  history  of  the  Donner  Party 
without  greatly  loving  and  reverencing  the  character  of  this 


138  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER   PARTY. 

faithful  wife.  The  saddest,  most  tear-stained  page  of  the 
tragedy,  relates  to  her  life  and  death  in  the  mountains.  A 
better  acquaintance  with  the  Donner  family,  and  especially 
with  Mrs.  Tamsen  Donner,  can  not  fail  to  be  desirable  in 
view  of  succeeding  chapters.  Thanks  to  Mr.  Allen  Francis, 
the  present  United  States  Consul  at  Victoria,  British  Co- 
lumbia, very  complete,  authentic,  and  interesting  information 
upon  this  subject  has  been  furnished.  Mr.  Francis  was  pub- 
lisher of  the  Springfield  (Illinois)  Journal  in  1846,  and  a 
warm  personal  friend  of  the  family. 

The  Donners  were  among  the  first  settlers  of  Sangamon 
County,  111.  They  were  North  Carolinians,  immigrants  to 
Kentucky  in  1818,  subsequently  to  the  State  of  Indiana,  and 
from  thence  to  what  was  known  as  the  Sangamon  Country, 
in  the  year  1828. 

George  Donner,  at  the  time  of  leaving  Springfield,  III., 
was  a  large,  fine-looking  man,  fully  six  feet  in  height,  with 
merry  black  eyes,  and  the  blackest  of  hair,  lined  with  an  oc- 
casional silver  thread.  He  possessed  a  cheerful  disposition, 
an  easy  temperament,  industrious  habits,  sound  judgment, 
and  much  general  information.  By  his  associates  and  neigh- 
bors he  was  called  "Uncle  George."  To  him  they  went  for 
instructions  relating  to  the  management  of  their  farms,  and 
usually  they  returned  feeling  they  had  been  properly  advised. 
Twice  had  death  bequeathed  him  a  group  of  motherless  chil- 
dren, and  Tamsen  was  his  third  wife. 

Her  parents,  William  and  Tamsen  Eustis,  were  respected 
and  well  to  do  residents  of  Newburyport,  Mass.,  where  she 
was  born  in  November,  1801.  Her  love  of  books  made  her 
a  student  at  an  early  age;  almost  as  soon  as  the  baby-dimples 
left  her  cheeks,  she  sought  the  school-room,  which  afforded 
her  reat  enjoyment.  Her  mother's  death  occurred  before 
she  attained  her  seventh  year,  and  for  a  time  her  childish 


TAMSEN   DONNERS    EARLY   LIFE.  139 

hopes  and  desires  were  overshadowed  with  sadness  by  this, 
her  first  real  sorrow.  But  the  sympathy  of  friends  soothed 
her  grief,  and  her  thirst  for  knowledge  led  her  back  to  the 
school-room,  where  she  pursued  her  studies  with  greater 
eagerness  than  before. 

Her  father  married  again,  and  little  Tamsen's  life  was  ren- 
dered happier  by  this  event;  for  in  her  step-mother  she  found 
a  friend  who  tenderly  directed  her  thoughts  and  encouraged 
her  work.  At  fifteen  years  of  age  she  finished  the  course  of 
study,  and  her  proficiency  in  mathematics,  geometry,  philos- 
ophy, etc.,  called  forth  the  highest  praise  of  her  teachers  and 
learned  friends.  She,  like  many  daughters  of  New  England, 
felt  that  talents  are  intrusted  to  be  used,  and  that  each  life 
is  created  for  some  definite  purpose.  She  therefore  resolved 
to  devote  herself  to  the  instruction  of  the  young,  and  after 
teaching  at  Newburyport  for  a  short  time,  she  accepted  a  call 
to  fill  a  vacancy  in  the  academy  at  Elizabeth  City,  N.  C, 
where  she  continued  an  earnest  and  appreciated  teacher  for  a 
number  of  years.  She  became  a  fluent  French  scholar  while 
at  that  institution,  and  her  leisure  hours  were  devoted  to  the 
fine  arts.  Her  paintings  and  drawings  were  much  admired 
for  their  correctness  in  outline,  subdued  coloring,  and  delicacy 
in  shading. 

In  Elizabeth  City  she  met  Mr.  Dozier,  a  young  man  of 
education  and  good  family,  and  they  were  married.  He  was 
not  a  man  of  means,  but  her  forethought  enabled  them  to 
live  comfortably.  For  a  few  brief  years  she  enjoyed  all  the 
happiness  which  wedded  bliss  and  maternal  love  could  con- 
fer, then  death  came,  and  in  a  few  short  weeks  her  husband 
and  two  babes  were  snatched  from  her  arms.  In  her  desola- 
tion and  bereavement  she  thought  of  her  old  home,  and 
longed  for  the  sympathy  of  her  childhood's  friends.  She 
returned  to  Newburyport,  where  she  spent  three  years  in  re- 


140  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER   PARTY. 

tirement  and  rest.  In  1836,  she  received  a  letter  from  her 
brother  in  Illinois,  urging  her  to  come  to  his  afflicted  house- 
hold, and  teach  his  motherless  children.  She  remained  with 
them  one  winter,  but  her  field  of  action  had  been  too  wide  to 
permit  her  to  settle  quietly  on  a  farm.  Besides,  she  had 
heard  much  of  the  manner  in  which  country  schools  were 
conducted,  and  became  desirous  of  testing  her  ability  in  con- 
trolling and  teaching  such  a  school.  She  obtained  one  in 
Auburn,  and  soon  became  the  friend  of  her  pupils.  All 
agreed  that  Mrs.  Dozier  was  a  faithful  teacher  until  the  fol- 
lowing little  incident  occurred.  The  worthy  Board  of  School 
Trustees  heard  that  Mrs.  Dozier  was  in  the  habit  of  knitting 
during  school  hours.  "Surely,  she  could  not  knit  and  in- 
struct her  pupils  properly;  therefore,  she  must  either  give  up 
her  knitting  or  her  school."  When  Mrs.  Dozier  heard  their 
resolution,  she  smiled,  and  said:  "Before  those  gentlemen 
deny  my  ability  to  impart  knowledge  and  work  with  my 
fingers  at  the  same  time,  I  would  like  them  to  visit  my 
school,  and  judge  me  by  the  result  of  their  observation." 

A  knock  at  the  school-room  door,  a  week  later,  startled 
the  children,  and  a  committee  of  trustees  entered.  Mrs. 
Dozier  received  them  in  the  most  ladylike  manner,  and  after 
they  were  seated,  she  called  each  class  at  its  appointed  time. 
The  recitations  were  heard,  and  lessons  explained,  yet  no  one 
seemed  disturbed  by  the  faint,  but  regular,  click  of  knitting 
needles.  For  hours  those  gentlemen  sat  in  silence,  deeply  in- 
terested in  all  that  transpired.  When  the  time  for  closing 
school  arrived,  the  teacher  invited  the  trustees  to  address  her 
pupils,  after  which  she  dismissed  school,  thanked  her  visitoi 
for  their  kind  attention,  and  went  home  without  learniq 
their  opinion. 

The  next  morning  she  was  informed  that  the  Board  o. 
Trustees  had  met  the  previous  evening,  and  after  hearing  the 


AN   INCIDENT   IN    SCHOOL.  I4I 

report  of  the  visiting  committee,  had  unanimously  agreed 
that  Mrs.  Dozier  might  continue  her  school  and  her  knitting 
also.  This  little  triumph  was  much  enjoyed  by  her  friends. 
The  following  year  she  was  urged  to  take  the  school  on 
Sugar  Creek,  where  the  children  were  older  and  further  ad- 
vanced than  those  at  Auburn.  Her  connection  with  this 
school  marked  a  new  era  for  many  of  its  attendants.  Mr.  J. 
Miller  used  to  relate  an  incident  which  occurred  a  few  days 
after  she  took  charge  of  those  unruly  boys  who  had  been  in 
the  habit  of  managing  the  teacher  and  school  to  suit  them- 
selves. "I  will  never  forget,"  said  Mr.  Miller,  "how  Mrs. 
Dozier  took  her  place  at  the  table  that  morning,  tapped  for 
order,  and  in  a  kind,  but  firm,  tone  said:  'Young  gentlemen 
and  young  ladies,  as  a  teacher  only,  I  can  not  criticise  the 
propriety  of  your  writing  notes  to  each  other  when  out  of 
school;  but  as  your  teacher,  with  full  authority  in  school,  I 
desire  and  request  you  neither  to  write  nor  send  notes  to  any 
one  during  school  hours.  I  was  surprised  at  your  conduct 
yesterday,  and  should  my  wish  be  disregarded  in  the  future, 
I  will  be  obliged  to  chastise  the  offender.*  She  called  the 
first  class,  and  school  began  in  earnest.  I  looked  at  her  quiet 
face  and  diminutive  form,  and  thought  how  easy  it  would  be 
for  me  to  pick  up  two  or  three  such  little  bodies  as  she,  and 
set  them  outside  of  the  door!  I  wrote  a  note  and  threw  it  to 
the  pupil  in  front  of  me,  just  to  try  Mrs.  Dozier.  When  the 
recitation  was  finished,  she  stepped  to  the  side  of  her  table, 
and  looked  at  me  with  such  a  grieved  expression  on  her  face, 
then  said :  '  Mr.  Miller,  I  regret  that  my  eldest  scholar  should 
be  the  first  to  violate  my  rule.  Please  step  forward.'  I  quailed 
beneath  her  eye.  I  marched  up  to  where  she  stood.  The 
stillness  of  that  room  was  oppressive.  I  held  out  my  hand 
at  the  demand  of  that  little  woman,  and  took  the  punishment 
I  deserved,  and  returned  to  my  seat  deeply  humiliated,  but 


142  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

fully  determined  to  behave  myself  in  the  future,  and  make 
the  other  boys  do  likewise.  Well,  she  had  no  more  trouble 
while  she  was  our  teacher.  Her  pluck  had  won  our  admira- 
tion, and  her  quiet  dignity  held  our  respect,  and  we  soon 
ceased  wondering  at  the  ease  with  which  she  overturned  our 
plans  and  made  us  eager  to  adopt  hers;  for  no  teacher  ever 
taught  on  Sugar  Creek  who  won  the  affections  or  ruled 
pupils  more  easil}^  or  happily  than  she.  We  were  expected 
to  come  right  up  to  the  mark;  but  if  we  got  into  trouble,  she 
was  always  ready  to  help  us  out,  and  could  do  it  in  the 
quietest  way  imaginable." 

She  taught  several  young  men  the  art  of  surveying,  and  had 
a  wonderful  faculty  of  interesting  her  pupils  in  the  study  of 
botany.  She  sought  by  creek  and  over  plain  for  specimens 
with  which  to  illustrate  their  lessons.  It  was  while  engaged 
in  this  place  that  Mrs.  Dozier  met  George  Donner,  who  at 
that  time  resided  about  two  and  a  half  miles  from  Spring- 
field. Their  acquaintance  resulted  in  marriage.  Her  pupils 
always  called  her  their  "little  teacher,"  for  she  was  but  five 
feet  in  height,  and  her  usual  weight  ninety-six  pounds.  She 
had  grayish-blue  eyes,  brown  hair,  and  a  face  full  of  char- 
acter and  intelligence.  She  was  gifted  with  fine  conversa- 
tional powers,  and  was  an  excellent  reader.  Her  voice  would 
hold  in  perfect  silence,  for  hours,  the  circle  of  neighbors  and 
friends  who  would  assemble  during  the  long  winter  evenings 
to  hear  her  read.  Even  those  who  did  not  fail  to  criticise  her 
ignorance  of  farm  and  dairy  work,  were  often  charmed  by 
her  voice  and  absence  of  display;  for  while  her  dress  was 
always  of  rich  material,  it  was  remarkable  for  its  Quaker 
simplicity. 

Mr.  Francis  says :  "  Mrs.  George  Donner  was  a  perfect 
type  of  an  eastern  lady,  kind,  sociable,  and  exemplary,  ever 
ready  to  assist  neighbors,  and  even  the  stranger  in  distress. 


PARTING    SCENES    AT    ALDER    CREEK.  1 43 

Whenever  she  could  spare  time,  she  wielded  a  ready  pen  on 
various  topics.  She  frequently  contributed  gems  in  prose  . 
and  poetry  to  the  columns  of  the  Journal,  that  awakened  an 
interest  among  its  readers  to  know  their  author.  Herself 
and  husband  were  faithful  members  of  the  German  Prairie 
Christian  Church,  situated  a  little  north  of  their  residence. 
Here  they  lived  happily,  and  highly  respected  by  all  who 
knew  them,  until  the  spring  of  1846,  when  they  started  for 
California." 

Having  said  this  much  of  the  Donners,  and  especially  of 
the  noble  woman  who  refused  to  leave  her  suffering  husband, 
let  us  glance  at  the  parting  scenes  at  Alder  Creek.  It  had 
been  determined  that  the  two  eldest  daughters  of  George 
Donner  should  accompany  Captain  Tucker's  party.  George 
Donner,  Jr.,  and  William  Hook,  two  of  Jacob  Donner's  sons, 
Mrs.  Wolfinger,  and  Noah  James  were  also  to  join  the  com- 
pany. This  made  six  from  the  Donner  tents.  Mrs.  Eliza- 
beth Donner  was  quite  able  to  have  crossed  the  mountains, 
but  preferred  to  remain  with  her  two  little  children,  Lewis 
and  Samuel,  until  another  and  larger  relief  party  should 
arrive.  These  two  boys  were  not  large  enough  to  walk,  Mrs. 
Donner  was  not  strong  enough  to  carry  them,  and  the  mem- 
bers of  Captain  Tucker's  party  had  already  agreed  to  take  as 
many  little  ones  as  they  could  carry. 

Leanna  C.  Donner,  now  Mrs.  John  App,  of  Jamestown, 
Tuolumne  County,  Cal.,  gives  a  vivid  description  of  the  trip 
from  George  Donner's  tent  to  the  cabins  at  Donner  Lake. 
Miss  Rebecca  E.  App,  acting  as  her  mother's  amanuensis, 
writes : 

"  Mother  says :  Never  shall  I  forget  the  day  when  my 
sister  Elitha  and  myself  left  our  tent.  Elitha  was  strong  and 
in  good  health,  while  I  was  so  poor  and  emaciated  that  I 
could  scarcely  walk.     All  we  took  with  us  were  the  clothes 


144  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER    PARTY. 

on  our  backs  and  one  thin  blanket,  fastened  with  a  string 
around  our  necks,  answering  the  purpose  of  a  shawl  in  the 
day-time,  and  which  was  all  we  had  to  cover  us  at  night. 
We  started  early  in  the  morning,  and  many  a  good  cry  I  had 
before  we  reached  the  cabins,  a  distance  of  about  eight  miles. 
Many  a  time  I  sat  down  in  the  snow  to  die,  and  would  have 
perished  there  if  my  sister  had  not  urged  me  on,  saying, 
'  The  cabins  are  just  over  the  hill.'  Passing  over  the  hill, 
and  not  seeing  the  cabins,  I  would  give  up,  again  sit  down 
and  have  another  cry,  but  my  sister  continued  to  help  and 
encourage  me  until  I  saw  the  smoke  rising  from  the  cabins ; 
then  I  took  courage,  and  moved  along  as  fast  as  I  could. 
When  we  reached  the  Graves  cabin  it  was  all  I  could  do  to 
step  down  the  snow-steps  into  the  cabin.  Such  pain  and 
misery  as  I  endured  that  day  is  beyond  description." 

In  Patrick  Breen's  diary  are  found  the  following  entries, 
which  allude  to  Captain  Tucker's  relief  party : 

"Feb.  19.  Froze  hard  last  night.  Seven  men  arrived 
from  California  yesterday  with  provisions,  but  left  the  greater 
part  on  the  way.  To-day  it  is  clear  and  warm  for  this  region ; 
some  of  the  men  have  gone  to  Donner's  camp;  they  will 
start  back  on  Monday. 

"  Feb.  22.  The  Californians  started  this  morning,  twenty- 
three  in  number,  some  in  a  very  weak  state.  Mrs.  Keseberg 
started  with  them,  and  left  Keseberg  here,  unable  to  go. 
Buried  Pike's  child  this  morning  in  the  snow  ;  died  two  days 
ago." 

Poor  little  Catherine  Pike  lingered  until  this  time  !  It  will 
be  remembered  that  this  little  nursing  babe  had  nothing  to 
eat  except  a  little  coarse  flour  mixed  in  snow  water.  Its 
mother  crossed  the  mountains  with  the  "Forlorn  Hope," 
and  from  the  sixteenth  of  December  to  the  twentieth  of  Feb- 
ruary it  lived  upon  the  miserable  gruel  made  from  unbolted 


A    B/VBY\S    DEATH.  1 45 

flour.  How  it  makes  the  heart  ache  to  think  of  this  little 
sufferer,  wasting  away,  moaning  with  hunger,  and  sobbing 
for  something  to  eat.  The  teaspoonful  of  snow  water  would 
contain  only  a  few  particles  of  the  flour,  yet  how  eagerly  the 
dying  child  would  reach  for  the  pitiful  food.  The  tiny  hands 
grew  thinner,  the  sad,  pleading  eyes  sank  deeper  in  their 
fleshless  sockets,  the  face  became  hollow,  and  the  wee  voice 
became  fainter,  yet,  day  after  day,  little  Catherine  Pike  con- 
tinued to  breathe,  up  to  the  very  arrival  of  the  relief  party. 

Patrick  Breen  says  twenty- three  started  across  the  mount- 
ains. Their  names  were:  Mrs.  Margaret  W.  Reed  and  her 
children — Virginia  E.  Reed,  Patty  Reed,  Thomas  Reed,  and 
James  F.  Reed,  Jr.;  Elitha  C.  Donner,  Leanna  C.  Donner, 
Wm.  Hook,  and  George  Donner,  Jr.;  Wm.  G.  Murphy, 
Mary  M.  Murphy,  and  Naomi  L.  Pike;  Wm.  C.  Graves, 
Eleanor  Graves,  and  Lovina  Graves;  Mrs.  Phillipine  Kese- 
berg,  and  Ada  Keseberg;  Edward  J.  and  Simon  P.  Breen, 
Eliza  Williams,  John  Denton,  Noah  James,  and  Mrs.  Wolf- 
mger. 

In  starting  from  the  camps  at  Donner  Lake,  Mrs.  Kese- 
berg's  child  and  Naomi  L.  Pike  were  carried  by  the  relief 
party.  In  a  beautiful  letter  received  from  Naomi  L.  Pike 
(now  Mrs.  Schenck,  of  the  Dalles,  Oregon),  she  says :  "  I 
owe  my  life  to  the  kind  heart  of  Jolm  Rhodes,  whose  sym- 
pathies were  aroused  for  my  mother.  He  felt  that  she  was 
deserving  of  some  relic  of  all  she  had  left  behind  when  she 
started  with  the  first  party  in  search  of  relief,  and  he  carried 
me  to  her  in  a  blanket."  We  have  before  spoken  of  this 
noble  man's  bravery  in  bearing  the  news  of  the  condition  of 
the  "Forlorn  Hope"  and  of  the  Donner  Party  to  Sutter's 
Fort.  Here  we  find  him  again  exhibiting  the  nobility  of  his 
nature  by  saving  this  little  girl  from  starvation  by  carrying 
her  on  his  back  over  forty  miles  of  wintry  snow. 


146  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

Before  the  party  had  proceeded  two  miles,  a  most  sad  oc- 
currence took  place.  It  became  evident  that  Patty  and 
Thomas  Reed  were  unable  to  stand  the  fatigue  of  the  jour- 
ney. Already  they  exhibited  signs  of  great  weakness  and 
weariness,  and  it  was  not  safe  to  allow  them  to  proceed.  Mr. 
Aquila  Glover  informed  Mrs.  Reed  that  it  was  necessary  that 
these  two  children  go  back.  Who  can  portray  the  emotions 
of  this  fond  mother?  What  power  of  language  can  indicate 
the  struggle  which  took  place  in  the  minds  of  this  stricken 
family?  Mr.  Glover  promised  to  return  as  soon  as  he  arrived 
at  Bear  Valley,  and  himself  bring  Patty  and  Thomas  over 
the  mountains.  This  promise,  however,  was  but  a  slight  con- 
solation for  the  agonized  mother  or  weeping  children,  until 
finally  a  hopeful  thought  occurred  to  Mrs.  Reed.  She  turned 
suddenly  to  Mr.  Glover,  and  asked,  "Are  you  a  Mason?" 
He  replied,  "  I  am."  "  Do  you  promise  me,"  she  said,  "  upon 
the  word  of  a  Mason,  that  when  you  arrive  at  Bear  Valley, 
you  will  come  back  and  get  my  children?"  Mr.  Glover 
made  the  promise,  and  the  children  were  by  him  taken  back 
to  the  cabins.  The  mother  had  remembered,  in  this  gloomiest 
moment  of  life,  that  the  father  of  her  little  ones  was  a  Mason, 
and  that  he  deeply  reverenced  the  order.  If  her  children 
must  be  left  behind  in  the  terrible  snows,  she  would  trust  the 
promise  of  this  Mason  to  return  and  save  them.  It  was  a 
beautiful  trust  in  a  secret  order  by  a  Mason's  wife  in  deep 
distress. 

Rebecca  E.  App,  writing  for  her  mother,  gives  a  vivid  de- 
scription of  this  journey  across  the  summits,  from  which  is 
taken  the  following  brief  extract: 

"  It  was  a  bright  Sunday  morning  when  we  left  the  cabins. 
Some  were  in  good  health,  while  others  were  so  poor  and 
emaciated  that  they  could  scarcely  walk.  I  was  one  of  the 
weakest  in  the  party,  and  not  one  in  the  train  thought  I 


JAMEwS    F.  REED. 


ELITHA   DONNERS    KINDNESS.  147 

would  get  to  the  top  of  the  first  hill.  We  were  a  sad  spec- 
tacle to  look  upon  as  we  left  the  cabins.  We  marched  along 
in  single  file,  the  leader  wearing  snow-shoes,  and  the  others 
following  after,  all  stepping  in  the  leader's  tracks.  I  think 
my  sister  and  myself  were  about  the  rear  of  the  train,  as  the 
strongest  were  put  in  front.  My  sister  Elitha  and  I  were 
alone  with  strangers,  as  it  were,  having  neither  father,  mother, 
nor  brothers,  to  give  us  a  helping  hand  or  a  word  of  courage 
to  cheer  us  onward.  We  were  placed  on  short  allowance  of 
food  from  the  start,  and  each  day  this  allowance  was  cut 
shorter  and  shorter,  until  we  received  each  for  our  evening 
and  morning  meal  two  small  pieces  of  jerked  beef,  about  the 
size  of  the  index  finger  of  the  hand.  Finally,  the  last  ration 
was  issued  in  the  evening.  This  was  intended  for  that  evening 
and  the  next  morning,  but  I  was  so  famished  I  could  not  re- 
sist the  temptation  to  eat  all  I  had — the  two  meals  at  one 
time.  Next  morning,  of  course,  I  had  nothing  for  breakfast. 
Now  occurred  an  incident  which  I  shall  never  forget.  While 
I  sat  looking  at  the  others  eating  their  morsels  of  meat, 
which  were  more  precious  than  gold  or  diamonds,  my  sister 
saw  my  distress,  and  divided  her  piece  with  me.  How  long 
we  went  without  food  after  that,  I  do  not  know.  I  think  we 
were  near  the  first  station." 


Chapter  XIII. 


Death  of  Ada  Keseberg — Denton  Discovering  Gold — A  Poem  Composed  While 
Dying — The  Caches  of  Provisions  Robbed  by  Fishers — The  Sequel  to  the 
Reed-Snyder  Tragedy — Death  from  Over-eating — The  Agony  of  Frozen 
Feet — An  Interrupted  Prayer — Stanton,  after  Death,  Guides  the  Relief 
Party — The  Second  Relief  Party  Arrives — A  Solitary  Indian — Patty  Reed 
and  her  Father — Starving  Children  Lying  in  Bed — Mrs.  Graves'  Money 
Still  Buried  at  Donner  Lake. 

i^^;EASIN  P.  TUCKER'S  relief  party  had  twenty-one 

emigrants  with  them  after  Patty  and  Thomas  Reed 

'^  returned  to  the  desolate  cabins.     On  the  evening  of 


i 


the  first  day,  one  of  the  twenty-one  died.  It  was  the 
baby  child  of  Lewis  Keseberg.  The  mother  had 
fairly  worshiped  her  girl.  They  buried  the  little  one  in  the 
snow.  It  was  all  they  could  do  for  the  pallid  form  of  the 
starved  little  girl.  Mrs.  Keseberg  was  heart-broken  over  her 
baby's  death.  At  the  very  outset  she  had  offered  everything 
she  possessed — twenty-five  dollars  and  a  gold  watch — to  any 
one  who  would  carry  her  child  over  the  mountains.  After 
the  staYved  band  resumed  their  weary  march  next  morning, 
it  is  doubtful  if  many  thought  of  the  niche  hollowed  out  of 
the  white  snow,  or  of  the  pulseless  heart  laid  therein.  Death 
had  become  fearfully  common,  and  his  victims  were  little 
heeded   by   the   perishing   company.     The   young  German 


DENTON   DISCOVERING   GOLD.  149 

mother,  however,   was   inconsolable.      Her   only  boy   had 
starved  to  death  at  the  cabins,  and  now  she  was  childless. 

The  next  day  the  company  reached  Summit  Valley.  An 
incident  of  this  day's  travel  illustrates  the  exhausted  condi- 
tion of  the  members  of  the  Donner  Party.  John  Denton, 
an  Englishman,  was  missed  when  camp  was  pitched,  and 
John  Rhodes  returned  and  found  him  fast  asleep  upon  the 
snow.  He  had  become  so  weary  that  he  yielded  to  a  slum- 
ber that  would  soon  have  proven  fatal.  With  much  labor 
and  exertion  he  was  aroused  and  brought  to  camp.  Denton 
appreciated  the  kindness,  but  at  the  same  time  declared  that 
it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to  travel  another  day.  Sure 
enough,  after  journeying  a  little  way  on  the  following  morn- 
ing, his  strength  utterly  gave  way.  His  companions  built  a 
fire  for  him,  gave  him  such  food  as  they  were  able,  and  at 
his  earnest  request  continued  their  sorrowful  march.  If  an- 
other relief  came  soon,  he  would,  perhaps,  be  rescued. 
Denton  was  well  educated  and  of  good  family,  was  a  gun- 
smith by  trade,  and  was  skilled  in  metals.  It  is  related,  that 
while  in  the  Reed  cabin,  he  discovered  in  the  earth,  ashes,  and 
burnt  stones  in  the  fireplace,  some  small  pieces  of  yellowish 
metal,  which  he  declared  to  be  gold.  These  he  made  into  a 
small  lump,  which  he  carefully  preserved  until  he  left  the 
lake,  and  it  was  doubtless  lost  on  the  mountains  at  his  death. 
This  was  in  the  spring  of  1847,  before  the  discovery  of  gold 
in  California.  The  strange  little  metallic  lump  was  exhib- 
ited to  several  who  are  yet  living,  and  who  think  there  is  rea- 
son for  believing  it  was  really  gold.  A  few  years  before  the 
construction  of  the  Central  Pacific,  Knoxville,  about  ten 
miles  south  of  Donner  Lake,  and  Elizabethtown,  some  six 
miles  from  Truckee,  were  famous  mining  camps.  Gold 
never  has  been  found  on  the  very  shore  of  Donner  Lake, 
but  should  the  discovery  be  made,  and  especially  should  gold 


150  HISTORY   OF  THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

be  found  in  the  rocks  or  earth  near  the  Reed  cabin,  there 
would  be  reason  to  believe  that  this  poor  unfortunate  man 
was  in  reality  the  first  discoverer  of  the  precious  metal  in 
California.  Left  alone  in  the  snow-mantled  forests  of  the 
Sierra,  what  were  this  man's  emotions  ?  In  the  California 
Star  of  1847,  a  bound  volume  of  which  is  in  the  State  Li- 
brary in  Sacramento,  appears  the  following  poem.  The  sec- 
ond relief  party  found  it  written  on  the  leaf  of  a  memorandum 
book  by  the  side  of  Denton's  lifeless  body.  The  pencil  with 
which  it  was  written  lay  also  by  the  side  of  the  unfortunate 
man.  Ere  the  lethargy  of  death  stole  away  his  senses,  John 
Denton's  thoughts  had  been  of  his  boyhood's  beautiful  home 
in  merry  England.  These  thoughts  were  woven  into  verse. 
Are  they  not  strangely  pathetic  and  beautiful  ?  Judge  Thorn- 
ton, in  1849,  published  them  with  the  following  prefatory 
words:  "  When  the  circumstances  are  considered  in  connec- 
tion with  the  calamities  in  which  the  unhappy  Denton  was 
involved,  the  whole  compass  of  American  and  English  poetry 
may  be  challenged  to  furnish  a  more  exquisitely  beautiful,  a 
more  touching  and  pathetic  piece.  Simple  and  inornate  to 
the  last  degree,  yet  coming  from  the  heart,  it  goes  to  the 
heart.  Its  lines  are  the  last  plaintive  notes  which  wintry 
winds  have  wakened  from  an  yEolian  harp,  the  strings  of 
which  rude  hands  have  sundered.  Bring  before  your  mind 
the  picture  of  an  amiable  young  man  who  has  wandered  far 
from  the  paternal  roof,  is  stricken  by  famine,  and  left  by  his 
almost  equally  unhappy  companions  to  perish  among  the 
terrible  snows  of  the  great  Sierra  Nevada.  He  knows  that 
his  last,  most  solemn  hour  is  near.  Reason  still  maintains 
her  empire,  and  memory,  faithful  to  the  last,  performs  her 
functions.  On  every  side  extends  a  boundless  waste  of  track- 
less snow.  He  reclines  against  a  bank  of  it,  to  rise  no  more, 
and  busy  memory  brings  before  him  a  thousand  images  of 


A   POEM    COMPOSED    WHILE    DYING.  151 

past  beauty  and  pleasure,  and  of  scenes  he  will  never  revisit. 
A  mother's  image  presents  itself  to  his  mind,  tender  recol- 
lections crowd  upon  his  heart,  and  the  scenes  of  his  boyhood 
and  youth  pass  in  review  before  him  with  an  unwonted  viv- 
idness. The  hymns  of  praise  and  thanksgiving  that  in  har- 
mony swelled  from  the  domestic  circle  around  the  family 
altar  are  remembered,  and  soothe  the  sorrows  of  the  dying 
man,  and  finally,  just  before  he  expires,  he  writes:" 

"  Oh!  after  many  roving  years, 

How  sweet  it  is  to  come 
Back  to  the  dwelling-place  of  youth. 

Our  first  and  dearest  home; 
To  turn  away  our  wearied  eyes 

From  proud  ambition's  towers. 
And  wander  in  those  summer  fields, 

The  scenes  of  boyhood's  hours. 

"  But  I  am  changed  since  last  I  gazed 

Upon  that  tranquil  scene, 
And  sat  beneath  the  old  witch  elm 

That  shades  the  \'illage  green; 
And  watched  my  boat  upon  the  brook — 

It  was  a  regal  galley — 
And  sighed  not  for  a  joy  on  earth. 

Beyond  the  happy  valley. 

"I  wish  I  could  once  more  recall 

That  bright  and  blissful  joy, 
And  summon  to  my  weary  heart 

The  feelings  of  a  boy. 
But  now  on  scenes  of  past  delight 

I  look,  and  feel  no  pleasure, 
As  misers  on  the  bed  of  death 

Gaze  coldly  on  their  treasure." 

When  Captain  Tucker's  relief  party  were  going  to  Donner 
Lake,  they  left  a  portion  of  their  provisions  in  Summit  Val- 
ley, tied  up  in  a  tree.    They  had  found  these  provisions  diffi- 


152  HISTORY   OK   THE   DONNER    PARIT. 

cult  to  carry,  and  besides,  it  was  best  to  have  something 
provided  for  their  return,  in  case  the  famished  emigrants  ate 
all  they  carried  over  the  summit.  It  was  indeed  true  that  all 
was  eaten  which  they  carried  over.  All  the  scanty  allowances 
were,  one  after  another,  consumed.  When  the  relief  party, 
and  those  they  were  rescuing,  reached  the  place  where  the 
provisions  had  been  cached,  they  were  in  great  need  of  the 
reserve  store  which  they  expected  to  find.  To  their  horror 
and  dismay,  they  found  that  wild  animals  had  gnawed  the 
ropes  by  which  the  cache  had  been  suspended,  and  had  de- 
stroyed every  vestige  of  these  provisions!  Death  stared 
them  in  the  face,  and  the  strongest  men  trembled  at  the  pros- 
pect. 

Here  comes  the  sequel  to  the  Reed-Snyder  tragedy.  Had 
it  not  been  for  Reed's  banishment,  there  is  every  reason  to 
believe  that  these  people  would  have  died  for  want  of  food. 
It  will  be  remembered,  however,  that  the  relief  party  organ- 
ized by  Reed  was  only  a  few  days  behind  Captain  Tucker's. 
On  the  twenty-seventh  of  February,  just  as  the  horror  and 
despair  of  their  dreadful  situation  began  to  be  realized. 
Tucker,  and  those  with  him.  were  relieved  by  the  second  re- 
lief party. 

In  order  to  better  understand  these  events,  let  us  return 
and  follow  the  motions  of  Reed  and  the  members  of  the  sec- 
ond relief  party.  In  the  article  quoted  in  a  former  chapter 
from  the  Rural  Press,  Reed  traced  their  progress  as  far  as 
Johnson's  ranch.  Patty  Reed  (Mrs.  Frank  Lewis)  has  in  her 
possession  the  original  diary  kept  by  her  father  during  this 
journey.  This  diary  shows  that  on  the  very  morning  Capt. 
Tucker,  and  the  company  with  him,  left  Donner  Lake  to  return 
to  the  valleys.  Reed  and  the  second  relief  party  started  from 
Johnson's  ranch  to  go  to  Donner  Lake.  All  that  subsequently 
occurred,  is  briefly  and  pointedly  narrated  in  the  diary. 


reed's  diary.  155 

"February  22,  1847.  All  last  night  I  kept  fire  under  the 
beef  which  I  had  drying  on  the  scaffolds,  and  Johnson's 
Indians  were  grinding  flour  in  a  small  hand-mill.  By  sun- 
rise this  morning  I  had  about  two  hundred  pounds  of  beef 
dried  and  placed  in  bags.  We  packed  our  horses  and  started 
with  our  supplies.  Including  the  meat  Greenwood  had 
dried,  we  had  seven  hundred  pounds  of  flour,  and  five  beeves. 
Mr.  Greenwood  had  three  men,  including  himself.  Traveled 
this  day  about  ten  miles. 

"Feb.  23.  Left  camp  early  this  morning,  and  pushed 
ahead,  but  camped  early  on  account  of  grass.  To-morrow 
we  will  reach  the  snow. 

"  Feb.  24.  Encamped  at  Mule  Springs  this  evening.  Made 
arrangements  to  take  to  the  snow  in  the  morning,  having  left 
in  camp  our  saddles,  bridles,  etc. 

"Feb.  25.  Started  with  eleven  horses  and  mules  lightly 
packed,  each  having  about  eighty  pounds.  Traveled  two 
miles,  and  left  one  mule  and  his  pack.  Made  to-day,  with 
hard  labor  for  the  horses,  in  the  snow,  about  six  miles.  Our 
start  was  late. 

"  Feb.  26.  Left  our  encampment,  Cady  thinking  the  snow 
would  bear  the  horses.  Proceeded  two  hundred  yards  with 
difficulty,  when  we  were  compelled  to  unpack  the  horses  and 
take  the  provisions  on  our  backs.  Usually  the  men  had  kept 
in  the  best  of  spirits,  but  here,  for  a  few  moments,  there  was 
silence.  When  the  packs  were  ready  to  be  strung  upon  their 
backs,  however,  the  hilarity  and  good  feeling  again  com- 
menced. Made  the  head  of  Bear  Valley,  a  distance  of  fifteen 
miles.  We  met  in  the  valley,  about  three  miles  below  the 
camp,  Messrs.  Glover  and  Rhodes,  belonging  to  the  party 
that  went  to  the  lake.  They  informed  me  they  had  started 
with  twenty-one  persons,  two  of  whom  had  died,  John  Den- 
ton, of  Springfield,  111.,  and  a  child  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Kese- 


154  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

berg.  Mr.  Glover  sent  two  men  back  to  the  party  with  fresh 
provisions.  They  are  in  a  starving  condition,  and  all  have 
nearly  given  out.  I  have  lightened  our  packs  with  a  sufficient 
quantity  of  provisions  to  do  the  people  when  they  shall  ar- 
rive at  this  place. 

"  Feb.  27.  I  sent  back  two  men  to  our  camp  of  night  before 
last,  to  bring  forward  provisions.  They  will  return  to-morrow. 
I  also  left  one  man  to  prepare  for  the  people  who  were  ex- 
pected to-day.  Left  camp  on  a  fine,  hard  snow,  and  pro- 
ceeded about  four  miles,  when  we  met  the  poor,  unfortunate, 
starved  people.  As  I  met  them  scattered  along  the  snow- 
trail,  I  distributed  some  bread  that  I  had  baked  last  night.  I 
gave  in  small  quantities  to  each.  Here  I  met  my  wife  and 
two  of  my  little  children.  Two  of  my  children  are  still  in 
the  mountains.  I  can  not  describe  the  death-like  look  all 
these  people  had.  '  Bread ! '  '  Bread ! '  '  Bread ! '  '  Bread ! '  was 
the  begging  cry  of  every  child  and  grown  person.  I  gave  all 
I  dared  to  them,  and  set  out  for  the  scene  of  desolation  at 
the  lake.  I  am  now  camped  within  twenty-five  miles  of  the 
place,  which  I  hope  to  reach  by  traveling  to-night  and  to- 
morrow. We  had  to  camp  early  this  evening,  on  account  of 
the  softness  of  the  snow,  the  men  sinking  in  to  their  waists, 
The  party  who  passed  us  to-day  were  overjoyed  when  we 
told  them  there  was  plenty  of  provision  at  camp.  I  made  a 
cache,  to-day,  after  we  had  traveled  about  twelve  miles,  and 
encamped  three  miles  further  eastward,  on  the  Yuba.  Snow 
about  fifteen  feet  deep." 

The  meeting  between  Reed  and  his  family  can  better  be 
imagined  than  described.  For  months  they  had  been  sepa- 
rated. While  the  father  was  battling  with  fate  in  endeavoring 
to  reach  California  and  return  with  assistance,  the  mother  had 
been  using  every  exertion  to  obtain  food  for  her  starving 
children.     Now    they    met    in    the    mountains,  in  the    deep 


DEATH  FROM  OVEREATING.  I55 

snows,  amid  pathless  forests,  at  a  time  when  the  mother  and 
children,  and  all  with  them,  were  out  of  provisions  and  ready 
to  perish. 

Meantime,  the  first  relief,  with  their  little  company,  now  re- 
duced to  nineteen,  passed  forward  toward  the  settlements.  At 
Bear  Valley,  another  cache  of  provisions  had  been  made,  and 
this  was  found  unmolested.  Camping  at  this  place,  the  utmost 
precaution  was  taken  to  prevent  the  poor  starved  people  from 
overeating.  After  a  sufficient  quantity  of  food  had  been 
distributed,  the  remainder  of  the  provisions  was  hung  up  in 
a  tree.  Of  course,  the  small  portion  distributed  to  each  did 
not  satisfy  the  cravings  of  hunger.  Some  time  during  the 
night,  Wm.  Hook  quietly  crept  to  the  tree,  climbed  up  to  the 
food,  and  ate  until  his  hunger  was  appeased.  Poor  boy,  it 
was  a  fatal  act.  Toward  morning  it  was  discovered  that  he 
was  dying.  All  that  the  company  could  do  to  relieve  his 
sufferings  was  done,  but  it  was  of  no  avail.  Finding  that  the 
poor  boy  was  past  relief,  most  of  the  emigrants  moved  on 
toward  the  settlements.  Wm.  G.  Murphy's  feet  had  been 
badly  frozen,  and  he  was  suffering  such  excruciating  agony 
that  he  could  not  travel  and  keep  up  with  the  others.  At  his 
request,  his  sister  Mary  had  cut  his  shoes  open,  in  order  to 
get  them  off,  and  his  feet  thereupon  swelled  up  as  if  they  had 
been  scalded.  Because  he  could  not  walk,  the  company  left 
him  with  William  Hook.  A  camp-keeper  also  remained. 
This  boy's  death  is  thus  described  by  Mr.  Murphy,  who 
writes: 

"William  Hook  went  out  on  the  snow  and  rested  on  his 
knees  and  elbows.  The  camp-keeper  called  to  him  to  come 
in.  He  then  told  me.to  make  him  come  into  camp.  I  went 
and  put  my  hand  on  him,  speaking  his  name,  and  he  fell 
over,  being  already  dead.  He  did  not  die  in  great  agony,  as 
is  usually  alleged.     No  groan,  nor  signs  of  dying,  were  mani- 


156  HISTORY   OF  THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

fested  to  us.  The  camp-keeper  and  myself  took  the  biscuits 
and  jerked  beef  from  his  pockets,  and  buried  him  just  barely 
under  the  ground,  near  a  tree  which  had  been  fired,  and  from 
around  which  the  snow  had  melted."  Those  who  were  in 
the  company  thought  Wm.  G.  Murphy  could  not  possibly 
walk,  but  when  all  had  gone,  and  Hook  was  dead,  and  no 
alternative  remained  but  to  walk  or  die,  he  did  walk.  It  took 
him  two  days  to  go  barefooted  over  the  snow  to  Mule 
Springs,  a  journey  which  the  others  had  made  in  one  day. 
The  agony  which  he  endured  during  that  trip  can  better  be 
imagined  than  described.  Nothing  but  an  indomitable  will 
could  have  sustained  him  during  those  two  days. 

All  the  members  of  this  relief  party  suffered  greatly,  and 
several  came  near  perishing.  Little  James  F.  Reed,  Jr.,  was 
too  small  to  step  in  the  tracks  made  by  the  older  members  of 
the  party.  In  order  to  travel  with  the  rest  he  had  to  partly 
use  his  knees  in  walking.  When  one  foot  was  in  a  track  he 
would  place  the  other  knee  on  the  untrodden  snow,  and  was 
thus  enabled  to  put  his  foot  in  the  next  track.  John  Denton 
was  left  with  a  good  fire,  and  when  last  seen  was  reclining 
smoking,  on  a  bed  of  freshly  gathered  pine  boughs.  He 
looked  so  comfortable  that  the  Httle  timid  boy  James  begged 
hard  to  be  allowed  to  remain  with  him.  Mrs.  Reed  had  hard 
work  to  coax  him  to  come.  Among  other  things,  she  prom- 
ised that  when  he  reached  California  he  should  have  a  horse 
"all  for  himself,"  and  that  he  should  never  have  to  walk  any 
more.  This  promise  was  literally  fulfilled.  James  F.  Reed,  Jr., 
since  reaching  California,  has  always  had  a  horse  of  his  own. 
No  matter  what  vicissitudes  of  fortune  have  overtaken  him, 
he  has  always  kept  a  saddle  horse. 

Sad  scenes  were  occurring  at  the  cabin  at  Donner  Lake 
and  the  tents  at  Alder  Creek.  Starvation  was  fast  claiming 
its  victims.     The  poor  sufferers  tried  to  be  brave  and  trust 


STANTON,  AFTER  DEATH,  GUIDES  THE  RELIEF  PARTY.  I  5  / 

God,  but  sometimes  hope  well-nigh  disappeared.  The  even- 
ing prayers  were  always  read  in  Patrick  Breen's  cabin,  and 
all  the  inmates  knelt  and  joined  in  the  responses.  Once 
when  they  were  thus  praying,  they  heard  the  cries  of  wild 
geese  flying  over  the  cabin.  With  one  accord  all  raised  their 
heads  and  listened  for  a  moment  to  the  soul-inspiring  sound. 
"Thank  God,  the  spring  is  coming,"  was  all  Patrick  Breen 
said,  and  again  bowing  their  heads,  the  prayer  was  resumed. 
Charles  L.  Cady,  writing  from  Calistoga,  says  that  Com- 
modore Stockton  employed  Greenwood  and  Turner  to  guide 
the  second  relief  party  over  the  mountains  to  Donner  Lake. 
Cady,  Stone,  and  Clark,  being  young,  vigorous  men,  left  their 
companions,  or  were  sent  forward  by  Reed,  and  reached  the 
cabins  some  hours  in  advance  of  the  party.  At  one  time,  near 
the  present  station  of  Summit  Valley,  Cady  and  Stone  became 
bewildered,  thought  they  were  lost,  and  wanted  to  return. 
Mr.  Clark,  however,  prevailed  upon  them  to  press  forward, 
agreeing  that  if  they  did  not  catch  some  glimpse  of  Donner 
Lake  when  they  reached  a  certain  mountain  top  in  the  dis- 
tance, he  would  give  up  and  return  with  them.  Had  they 
reached  the  mountain  top  they  could  not  have  seen  the  lake, 
and  so  would  have  turned  back,  but  while  they  were  ascend- 
ing, they  came  to  the  lifeless  body  of  C.  T.  Stanton  sitting 
upright  against  a  tree.  There  was  no  longer  room  for  doubt- 
ing that  they  were  going  in  the  right  direction  to  reach  Don- 
ner Lake.  Poor  Stanton!  even  in  death  he  pointed  out  to 
the  relief  party  the  way  to  the  starving  emigrants,  to  save 
whom  he  had  sacrificed  his  life. 

Reed's  diary  continues : 

"Feb.  28.  Left  camp  about  twelve  o'clock  at  night,  but 
was  compelled  to  camp  about  two  o'clock,  the  snow  still 
being  soft.  Left  again  about  four  o'clock,  all  hands,  and 
made  this  day  fourteen  miles.     Encamped  early;  snow  very 


158  HISTORY   OF  THE    DONNER   PARTY. 

soft.  The  snow  here  is  thirty  feet  deep.  Three  of  my  men, 
Cady,  Clark,  and  Stone,  kept  on  during  the  night  to  within 
two  miles  of  the  cabins,  where  they  halted,  and  remained 
without  fire  during  the  night,  on  account  of  having  seen  ten 
Indians.  The  boys  did  not  have  any  arms,  and  supposed 
these  Indians  had  taken  the  cabins  and  destroyed  the  people. 
In  the  morning  they  started,  and  reached  the  cabins.  All 
were  alive  in  the  houses.  They  gave  provisions  to  Keseberg, 
Breen,  Graves,  and  Mrs.  Murphy,  and  the  two  then  left  for 
Donner's,  a  distance  of  seven  miles,  which  they  made  by  the 
middle  of  the  day. 

"March  1.  I  came  up  with  the  remainder  of  my  party, 
and  told  the  people  that  all  who  were  able  should  start  day 
after  to-morrow.  Made  soup  for  the  infirm,  washed  and 
clothed  afresh  Eddy's  and  Foster's  children,  and  rendered 
every  assistance  in  my  power,  I  left  Mr.  Stone  with  Kese- 
berg's  people  to  cook,  and  to  watch  the  eating  of  Mrs.  Mur- 
phy, Keseberg,  and  three  children." 

In  Patrick  Breen's  diary  is  found  the  following: 

"Feb.  23.  Froze  hard  last  night.  To-day  pleasant  and 
thawy ;  has  the  appearance  of  spring,  all  but  the  deep  snow. 
Wind  south-south-east.  Shot  a  dog  to-day  and  dressed  his 
flesh. 

"Feb.  25.  To-day  Mrs.  Murphy  says  the  wolves  are  about 
to  dig  up  the  dead  bodies  around  her  shanty,  and  the  nights 
are  too  cold  to  watch  them,  but  we  hear  them  howl. 

"  Feb.  26.  Hungry  times  in  camp ;  plenty  of  hides,  but 
the  folks  will  not  eat  them;  we  eat  them  with  tolerably  good 
appetite,  thanks  to  the  Almighty  God.  Mrs.  Murphy  said 
here  yesterday  that  she  thought  she  would  commence  on 
Milton  and  eat  him.  I  do  not  think  she  has  done  so  yet ;  it 
is  distressing.  The  Donners  told  the  California  folks  four 
days  ago  that  they  would  commence  on  the  dead  people  if 


PATRICK    BREENS   DIARY.  1 59 

they  did  not  succeed  that  day  or  the  next  in  finding  their 
C9ttle,  then  ten  or  twelve  feet  under  the  snow,  and  they  did 
not  know  the  spot  or  near  it;  they  have  done  it  ere  this. 

"Feb.  28.  One  solitary  Indian  passed  by  yesterday ;  came 
from  the  lake ;  had  a  heavy  pack  on  his  back ;  gave  me  five 
jr  six  roots  resembhng  onions  in  shape ;  tasted  some  hke  a 
.'-weet  potato ;  full  of  tough  little  fibers. 

"  March  i.  Ten  men  arrived  this  morning  from  Bear  Val- 
ley, with  provisions.  We  are  to  start  in  two  or  three  days, 
and  cache  our  goods  here.  They  say  the  snow  will  remain 
until  June." 

This  closes  Patrick  Breen's  diary.  Its  record  has  always 
been  considered  reliable.  None  of  the  statements  made  in 
this  diary  have  ever  been  controverted. 

The  Indian  spoken  of  refused  to  be  interviewed.  To  quote 
the  language  of  Mr.  John  Breen,  "he  did  not  seem  to  be  at 
all  curious  as  to  how  or  why  there  was  a  white  man  alone 
(as  it  must  have  seemed  to  him)  in  the  wilderness  of  snow." 
The  Indian  was  trudging  along  with  a  heavy  pack  on  his 
back.  As  soon  as  he  saw  Mr.  Breen,  he  halted  and  warned 
him  with  a  gesture  not  to  approach.  Taking  from  the  pack 
a  few  of  the  fibrous  roots,  he  laid  them  on  the  snow,  still 
cautioning  with  his  hand  not  to  approach  until  he  was  well 
out  of  reach.  As  soon  as  the  Indian  was  gone,  Mr.  Breen 
went  out  and  got  the  roots,  which  were  very  palatable.  It  is 
probable  that  this  was  one  of  the  band  of  Indians  seen  by 
Clark,  Cady,  and  Stone. 

When  Patty  and  Thomas  Reed  had  been  returned  to  the 
cabins  by  Aquila  Glover,  they  had  been  received  by  the 
Breen  family,  where  they  remained  all  the  time  until  their 
father  came.  The  Breen  cabin  was  the  first  one  at  which 
Mr.  Reed  arrived.  His  meeting  with  his  daughter  is  thus 
described  by  Mr.  Eddy,  in  Thornton's  work:  "At  this  camp 


l60  HISTORY  OF   THE   DONXER    PARTY. 

Mr.  Reed  saw  his  daughter  Patty  sitting  on  the  top  of  the 
snow  with  which  the  cabin  was  covered.  Patty  saw  her 
father  at  some  distance,  and  immediately  started  to  run  and 
meet  him,  but  such  was  her  weakness  that  she  fell.  Her 
father  took  her  up,  and  the  affectionate  girl,  bathed  in  tears, 
embraced  and  kissed  him,  exclaiming:  'Oh,  papa!  I  never 
expected  to  see  you  again  when  the  cruel  people  drove  you 
out  of  camp.  But  I  knew  that  God  was  good,  and  would  do 
what  was  best.  Is  dear  mamma  living?  Is  Mr.  Glover  liv- 
ing? Did  you  know  that  he  was  a  Mason?  Oh,  my  dear 
papa,  I  am  so  happy  to  see  you.  Masons  must  be  good 
men.  Is  Mr.  Glover  the  same  sort  of  Mason  we  had  in 
Springfield?  He  promised  mamma  upon  the  word  of  a  Ma- 
son that  he  would  bring  me  and  Tommy  out  of  the  mount- 
ains.' Mr.  Reed  told  Patty  that  Masons  were  everywhere 
the  same,  and  that  he  had  met  her  mother  and  Mr.  Glover, 
and  had  relieved  him  from  his  pledge,  and  that  he  himself  had 
come  to  her  and  little  Tommy  to  redeem  that  pledge  and  to 
take  out  all  that  were  able  to  travel." 

The  greatest  precaution  was  taken  to  keep  the  suffering 
emigrants  from  overeating.  Cady,  Stone,  and  Clark  had  dis- 
tributed a  small  portion  of  food  to  each  of  the  famished  be- 
ings. Patty  Reed  was  intrusted  with  the  task  of  giving  to 
each  person  a  single  biscuit.  Taking  the  biscuits  in  her 
apron  she  went  in  turn  to  each  member  of  the  company. 
Who  shall  describe  the  rejoicings  that  were  held  over  those 
biscuits  ?  Several  of  the  survivors,  in  speaking  of  the  sub- 
ject, say  that  to  their  hungry  eyes  these  small  pieces  of  bread 
assumed  gigantic  proportions.  Never  did  the  largest  loaves 
of  bread  look  half  so  large.  Patty  Reed  says  that  some  of 
the  little  girls  cut  their  portions  into  thin  slices,  so  as  to  eat 
them  slowly  and  enjoy  them  more  completely. 

The  names  of  the  members  of  this  second  relief  party  were 


MRS.  graves'  money  STILL  I5URIED  AT  DONXER  LAKE.        l6l 

James  F.  Reed,  Charles  Cady,  Charles  Stone,  Nicholas  Clark. 
Joseph  Jondro,  Mathew  Dofar,  John  Turner,  Hiram  Miller, 
Wm.  McCutchen,  and  Brit.  Greenwood.  A  portion  of  the 
party  went  to  the  Donner  tents,  and  the  remainder  assisted 
the  emigrants  in  preparing  to  start  over  the  mountains.  The 
distress  and  suffering  at  each  camp  was  extreme.  Even  after 
the  children  had  received  as  much  food  as  was  prudent,  it  is 
said  they  would  stretch  out  their  little  arms  and  with  cries 
and  tears  beg  for  something  to  eat.  Mrs.  Murphy  informed 
Mr.  Reed  that  some  of  the  children  had  been  confined  to 
their  beds  for  fourteen  days.  It  was  clearly  to  be  seen  that 
very  few  of  the  sufferers  could  cross  the  Sierra  without  being 
almost  carried.  They  were  too  weak  and  helpless  to  walk. 
The  threatening  appearance  of  the  weather  and  the  short 
supply  of  provisions  urged  the  party  to  hasten  their  depart- 
ure, and  it  was  quickly  decided  who  should  go,  and  who 
remain.  Those  who  started  from  Donner  Lake  on  the  third 
of  March  with  Mr.  Reed  and  his  party  were  Patrick  Breen, 
Mrs.  Margaret  Breen,  John  Breen,  Patrick  Breen,  Jr.,  James  F. 
Breen,  Peter  Breen,  and  Isabella  M.  Breen,  Patty  Reed  and 
Thomas  Reed,  Isaac  Donner  and  Mary  M.  Donner,  Solomon 
Hook,  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Graves,  Nancy  Graves,  Jonathan  Graves, 
rVanklin  Graves,  and  Elizabeth  Graves,  Jr.  Many  of  the 
younger  members  of  this  party  had  to  be  carried.  All  were 
very  much  weakened  and  emaciated,  and  it  was  evident  that 
the  journey  over  the  mountains  would  be  slow  and  painful. 
In  case  a  storm  should  occur  on  the  summits,  it  Avas  fearfully 
apparent  that  the  trip  would  be  exceedingly  perilous. 

Reed's  party  encamped  the  first  night  near  the  upper  end 
of  Donner  Lake.  They  had  scarcely  traveled  three  miles. 
Upon  starting  from  the  Graves  cabin,  Mrs.  Graves  had  taken 
with  her  a  considerable  sum  of  money.  This  money,  Mr. 
IVTcCutchcn  says,  had  been  ingeniously  concealed  in  auger- 


1 62  HISTORY   OF  THE    DONNlSK   PARTY. 

holes  bored  in  cleats  nailed  to  the  bed  of  the  wagon.  These 
cleats,  as  W.  C.  Graves  informs  us,  were  ostensibly  placed  in 
the  wagon-bed  to  support  a  table  carried  in  the  back  part  of 
the  wagon.  On  the  under  side  of  these  cleats,  however,  were 
the  auger-holes,  carefully  filled  with  coin.  The  sum  is 
variously  stated  at  from  three  to  five  hundred  dollars.  At 
the  camping-ground,  near  the  upper  end  of  Donner  Lake, 
one  of  the  relief  party  jokingly  proposed  to  another  to  play 
a  game  of  euchre  to  see  who  should  have  Mrs.  Graves' 
money.  The  next  morning,  Mrs.  Graves  remained  behind 
when  the  party  started,  and  concealed  her  money.  All  that 
is  known  is,  that  she  buried  it  behind  a  large  rock  on  the 
north  side  of  Donner  Lake.  So  far  as  is  known,  this  money 
has  never  been  recovered,  but  still  lies  hidden  where  it  was 
placed  by  Mrs.  Graves. 


^gr^g 

^ 

™v^S^ 

?!5 

^^ 

^^^E 

^m 

jjji^P 

^^^ 

Chapter  XIV. 


Leaving  Three  Men  in  the  Mountains — The  Emigrants  Quite  Helpless — Bear 
Tracks  in  the  Snow — The  Clumps  of  Tamarack — Wounding  a  Bear — Blood- 
stains upon  the  Snow — A  Weary  Chase — A  IMomentous  Day — Stone  and 
Cady  Leave  the  Sufferers — A  Mother  Offering  Five  Hundred  Dollars — 
Mrs.  Donner  Parting  from  her  Children — "God  will  Take  Care  of  You" 
— Buried  in  the  Snow,  without  Food  or  Fire — Pines  Uprooted  by  the  Storm 
— A  Grave  Cut  in  the  Snow — The  Cub's  Cave — Firing  at  Random — A 
Desperate  Undertaking — Preparing  for  a  Hand-to-Hand  Battle — Precipi- 
tated into  the  Cave — Seizing  the  Bear — Mrs.  Elizabeth  Donner's  Death — 
•  Clark  and  Baptiste  Attempt  to  Escape — A  Death  more  Cruel  than  Starva- 
tion. 

p^EFORE  Reed's  party  started  to  return,  a  consultation 
was  held,  and  it  was  decided  that  Clark,  Cady,  and 

^  Y^  Stone  should  remain  at  the  mountain  camps.     It  was 

"''^  intended  that  these  men  should  attend  to  procuring 
wood,  and  perform  such  other  acts  as  would  assist 
the  almost  helpless  sufferers.  It  was  thought  that  a  third  re- 
lief party  could  be  sent  out  in  a  few  days  to  get  all  the  emi- 
grants who  remained. 

Nicholas  Clark,  who  now  resides  in  Honey  Lake  Valley, 
Lassen  County,  California,  says  that  as  he  and  Cady  were 
going  to  the  Donner  tents,  they  saw  the  fresh  tracks  of  a 
bear  and  cub  crossing  the  road.     In  those  days,  there  were 


164  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER    PARTY. 

several  little  clumps  of  tamarack  along  Alder  Creek,  just  be- 
low the  Donner  tents,  and  as  the  tracks  led  towards  these, 
Mr.  Clark  procured  a  gun  and  started  for  an  evening's  hunt 
among  the  tamaracks.  He  found  the  bear  and  her  cub 
within  sight  of  the  tents,  and  succeeded  in  severely  wounding 
the  old  bear.  She  was  a  black  bear,  of  medium  size.  For  a 
long  distance,  over  the  snow  and  through  the  forests,  Clark 
followed  the  wounded  animal  and  her  cub.  The  approach 
of  darkness  at  last  warned  him  to  desist,  and  returning  to  the 
tents,  he  passed  the  night.  Early  next  morning,  Clark  again 
set  out  in  pursuit  of  the  bear,  following  her  readily  by  the 
blood-stains  upon  the  snow.  It  was  another  windy,  cloudy, 
threatening  day,  and  there  was  every  indication  that  a  severe 
storm  was  approaching.  Eagerly  intent  upon  securing  his 
game,  Mr.  Clark  gave  little  heed  to  weather,  or  time,  or  dis- 
tance. The  endurance  of  the  wounded  animal  was  too  great, 
however,  and  late  in  the  afternoon  he  realized  that  it  was 
necessary  for  him  to  give  up  the  weary  chase,  and  retrace 
his  steps.  He  arrived  at  the  tents  hungry,  tired,  and  foot- 
sore, long  after  dark. 

That  day,  however,  had  been  a  momentous  one  at  the 
Donner  tents.  Stone  had  come  over  early  in  the  morning, 
and  he  and  Cady  concluded  that  it  was  sheer  madness  for 
them  to  remain  in  the  mountains.  That  a  terrible  storm  was 
fast  coming  on,  could  not  be  doubted.  The  provisi©ns  were 
almost  exhausted,  and  if  they  remained,  it  would  only  be  to 
perish  with  the  poor  emigrants.  They  therefore  concluded 
to  attempt  to  follow  and  overtake  Reed  and  his  companions. 

Mrs.  Tamsen  Donner  was  able  to  have  crossed  the  mount- 
ains with  her  children  with  either  Tucker's  or  Reed's  party. 
On  account  of  her  husband's  illness,  however,  she  had  firmly 
refused  all  entreaties,  and  had  resolutely  determined  to  re- 
main by  his  bedside.     She  was  extremely  anxious,  however. 


"god  will  take  care  of  you."  165 

that  her  children  should  reach  California;  and  Hiram  Miller 
relates  that  she  offered  five  hundred  dollars  to  any  one  in  the 
second  relief  party,  who  would  take  them  in  safety  across  the 
mountains.  When  Cady  and  Stone  decided  to  go,  Mrs. 
Donner  induced  them  to  attempt  the  rescue  of  these  chil- 
dren, Frances,  Georgia,  and  Eliza.  They  took  the  children 
as  far  as  the  cabins  at  the  lake,  and  left  them.  Probably 
they  became  aware  of  the  impossibility  of  escaping  the 
storm,  and  knew  that  it  would  be  sure  death,  for  both  them- 
selves and  the  children,  should  they  take  them  any  farther. 
In  view  of  the  terrible  calamity  which  befell  Reed's  party  on 
account  of  this  storm,  and  the  fact  that  Cady  and  Stone  had 
a  terrible  struggle  for  life,  every  one  must  justify  these  men 
in  leaving  the  children  at  the  cabins.  The  parting  between 
the  devoted  mother  and  her  little  ones  is  thus  briefly  de- 
scribed by  Georgia  Donner,  now  Mrs.  Babcock:  "  The  men 
camfe.  I  listened  to  their  talking  as  they  made  their  agree- 
ment. Then  they  took  us,  three  little  girls,  up  the  stone 
steps,  and  stood  us  on  the  bank.  Mother  came,  put  on  our 
hoods  and  cloaks,  saying,  as  if  she  was  talking  more  to  her- 
self than  to  us:  'I  may  never  see  you  again,  but  God  will 
take  care  of  you.'  After  traveling  a  few  miles,  they  left  us 
on  the  snow,  went  ahead  a  short  distance,  talked  one  to  an- 
other, then  came  back,  took  us  as  far  as  Keseberg's  cabin, 
and  left  us." 

Mr.  Cady  recalls  the  incident  of  leaving  the  children  on 
the  snow,  but  says  the  party  saw  a  coyote,  and  were  attempt- 
ing to  get  a  shot  at  the  animal. 

When  Nicholas  Clark  awoke  on  the  morning  of  the  third 
day,  the  tent  was  literally  buried  in  freshly  fallen  snow.  He 
was  in  what  is  known  as  Jacob  Donner's  tent.  Its  only  oc- 
cupants besides  himself  were  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Donner,  her  son 
Lewis,  and  the  Spanish  boy,  John  Baptiste.     George  Donner 


1 66  HISTORY   OF  THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

and  wife  were  in  their  own  tent,  and  with  them  was  Mrs. 
Elizabeth  Donner's  youngest  child,  Samuel.  Mr.  Clark  says 
he  can  not  remember  how  long  the  storm  lasted,  but  it  seems 
as  if  it  must  have  been  at  least  a  week.  The  snow  was  so 
deep  that  it  was  impossible  to  procure  wood,  and  during  all 
those  terrible  days  and  nights  there  was  no  fire  in  either  of 
the  tents.  The  food  gave  out  the  first  day,  and  the  dreadful 
cold  was  rendered  more  intense  by  the  pangs  of  hunger. 
Sometimes  the  wind  would  blow  like  a  hurricane,  and  they 
could  plainly  hear  the  great  pines  crashing  on  the  mountain 
side  above  them,  as  the  wind  uprooted  them  and  hurled  them 
to  the  ground.  Sometimes  the  weather  would  seem  to  mod- 
erate, and  the  snow  would  melt  and  trickle  in  under  the  sides 
of  the  tent,  wetting  their  clothes  and  bedding,  and  increasing 
the  misery  of  their  situation. 

When  the  storm  cleared  away,  Clark  found  himself  starv- 
ing like  the  rest.  He  had  really  become  one  of  the  Donner 
Party,  and  was  as  certain  to  perish  as  were  the  unfortunates 
about  him.  It  would  necessarily  be  several  days  before  relief 
could  possibly  arrive,  and  utter  despair  seemed  to  surround 
them.  Just  as  the  storm  was  closing,  Lewis  Donner  died, 
and  the  poor  mother  was  well-nigh  frantic  with  grief.  As 
soon  as  she  could  make  her  way  to  the  other  tent,  she  car- 
ried her  dead  babe  over  and  laid  it  in  Mrs.  George  Donner's 
lap.  With  Clark's  assistance,  they  finally  laid  the  child  away 
in  a  grave  cut  out  of  the  solid  snow. 

In  going  to  a  tamarack  grove  to  get  some  wood,  Mr.  Clark 
was  surprised  to  find  the  fresh  track  of  the  bear  cub,  which 
had  recrossed  Alder  Creek  and  ascended  the  mountain  be- 
hind the  tents.  It  was  doubtless  the  same  one  whose  mother 
he  had  wounded.  The  mother  had  probably  died,  and  after 
the  storm  the  cub  had  returned.  Mr.  Clark  at  once  followed 
it,  tracking  it  far  up  the  mountain  side  to  a  cliff  of  rocks,  and 


FIRING    AT   RANDOM.  1 67 

losing  the  trail  at  the  mouth  of  a  small,  dark  cave.  He  says 
that  all  hope  deserted  him  when  he  found  that  the  cub  had 
gone  into  the  cave.  He  sat  down  upon  the  snow  in  utter 
despair.  It  was  useless  to  return  to  the  tents  without  food ; 
he  might  as  well  perish  upon  the  mountain  side.  After  re- 
flecting for  some  time  upon  the  gloomy  situation,  he  con- 
cluded to  fire  his  gun  into  the  cave,  and  see  if  the  report 
might  not  frighten  out  the  cub.  He  placed  the  muzzle  of 
the  gun  as  far  down  into  the  cave  as  he  could,  and  fired. 
When  the  hollow  reverberation  died  away  among  the  cliffs, 
no  sound  disturbed  the  brooding  silence.  The  experiment 
had  failed.  He  seriously  meditated  whether  he  could  not 
watch  the  cave  day  and  night  until  the  cub  should  be  driven 
out  by  starvation.  But  suddenly  a  new  idea  occurred 
to  him.  Judging  from  the  track,  and  from  the  size  of  the 
cub  he  had  seen,  Mr.  Clark  concluded  that  it  was  possible  he 
might  be  able  to  enter  the  cave  and  kill  the  cub  in  a  hand- 
to-hand  fight.  It  was  a  desperate  undertaking,  but  it  was 
preferable  to  death  from  starvation.  He  approached  the  nar- 
row opening,  and  tried  again  to  peer  into  the  cave  and  ascer- 
tain its  depth.  As  he  was  thus  engaged  the  snow  suddenly 
gave  way,  and  he  was  precipitated  bodily  into  the  cave.  He 
partly  fell,  partly  slid  to  the  very  bottom  of  the  hole  in  the 
rocks.  In  endeavoring  to  regain  an  erect  posture,  his  hand 
struck  against  some  furry  animal.  Instinctively  recoiling,  he 
waited  for  a  moment  to  see  what  it  would  do.  Coming  from 
the  dazzling  sunlight  into  the  darkness,  he  could  see  nothing 
whatever.  Presently  he  put  out  his  foot  and  again  touched 
the  animal.  Finding  that  it  did  not  move,  he  seized  hold  of  it 
and  found  that  it  was  the  cub — dead!  His  random  shot  had 
pierced  its  brain,  and  it  had  died  without  a  struggle.  The 
cave  or  opening  in  the  rocks  was  not  very  deep,  and  after  a 
long  time  he  succeeded  in  dragging  his  prize  to  the  surface. 


1 68  HISTORY  OF  THE   DONNER  PARTY. 

There  was  food  in  the  Donner  tents  from  this  time  forward. 
It  came  too  late,  however,  to  save  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Donner  or 
her  son  Samuel.  This  mother  was  quite  able  to  have  crossed 
the  mountains  with  either  of  the  two  relief  parties;  but,  as 
Mrs.  E.  P.  Houghton  writes:  "Her  little  boys  were  too 
young  to  walk  through  the  deep  snows,  she  was  not  able 
to  carry  them,  and  the  relief  parties  were  too  small  to  meet 
such  emergencies.  She  stayed  with  them,  hoping  some  way 
would  be  provided  for  their  rescue.  Grief,  hunger,  and  dis- 
appointed hopes  crushed  her  spirit,  and  so  debilitated  her 
that  death  came  before  the  required  help  reached  her  or  her 
children.  For  some  days  before  her  death  she  was  so  weak 
that  Mrs.  George  Donner  and  the  others  had  to  feed  her  as  if 
she  had  been  a  child.  At  last,  one  evening,  as  the  sun  went 
down,  she  closed  her  eyes  and  awoke  no  more.  Her  life 
had  been  sacrificed  for  her  children.  Could  words  be  framed 
to  express  a  more  fitting  tribute  to  her  memory  !  Does  not 
the  simple  story  of  this  mother's  love  wreathe  a  chaplet  of 
glory  about  her  brow  far  holier  than  could  be  fashioned  by 
human  hands  ! 

Samuel  Donner  lingered  but  a  few  days  longer.  Despite 
the  tenderest  care  and  attention,  he  grew  weaker  day  by  day, 
until  he  slept  by  the  side  of  his  mother  and  brother  in  their 
snowy  grave. 

All  this  time  Mrs.  Tamsen  Donner  was  tortured  with  fear 
and  dread,  lest  her  children  had  perished  in  the  dreadful 
storm  on  the  summits.  At  last  Clark  yielded  to  her  im- 
portunities, and  decided  to  visit  the  cabins  at  Donner  Lake, 
and  see  if  there  was  any  news  from  beyond  the  Sierra. 
Clark  found  the  children  at  Keseberg's  cabin,  and  witnessed 
such  scenes  of  horror  and  suffering  that  he  determined  at 
once  to  attempt  to  reach  California.  Returning  to  Alder 
Creek,  he  told  Mrs.  Donner  of  the  situation  of  her  children. 


A  DEATH  MORE  CRUEL  THAN  STARVATION.        1 69 

and  says  he  informed  her  that  he  believed  their  lives  were  in 
danger  of  a  death  more  violent  than  starvation.  He  in- 
formed her  of  his  resolution  to  leave  the  mountains,  and 
taking  a  portion  of  the  little  meat  that  was  left,  he  at  once 
started  upon  his  journey.     John  Baptiste  accompanied  him. 

The  cub  would  have  weighed  about  seventy  pounds  when 
killed ;  and  now  that  its  flesh  was  nearly  gone,  there  was 
really  very  little  hope  for  any  one  unless  relief  came  speedily. 
In  attempting  to  make  their  way  across  the  mountains, 
Clark  and  Baptiste  did  the  wisest  thing  possible,  yet  they 
well  knew  that  they  would  perish  by  the  way  unless  they 
met  relief. 

Mrs.  Tamsen  Donner  did  not  dare  to  leave  her  husband 
alone  during  the  night,  but  told  Clark  and  Baptiste  that  she 
should  endeavor  to  make  the  journey  to  the  cabins  on  the 
following  day.  It  was  a  long,  weary  walk  over  the  pitiless 
snow,  but  she  had  before  her  yearning  eyes  not  only  the 
picture  of  her  starving  children,  but  the  fear  that  they  were 
in  danger  of  a  more  cruel  death  than  starvation. 


Chapter  XV. 


A  Mountain  Storm — Provisions  Exhausted — Battling  the  Storm-Fiends — Black 
Despair — Icy  Coldness — A  Picture  of  Desolation — The  Sleep  of  Death — 
A  Piteous  Farewell — Falling  into  the  Fire-well — Isaac  Donner's  Death — 
Living  upon  Snow-water — Excruciating  Pain — A  Vision  of  Angels — "Patty 
is  Dying" — The  Thumb  of  a  Mitten — A  Child's  Treasures — The  "Dolly" 
of  the  Donner  Party. 

^N  the  evening  of  the  second  day  after  leaving  Donner 
i?JKr^  Lake,  Reed's  party  and  the  little  band  of  famished 
f  ASj  emigrants  found  themselves  in  a  cold,  bleak,  uncom- 
fortable hollow,  somewhere  near  the  lower  end  of 
Summit  Valley.  Here  the  storm  broke  in  all  its 
fury  upon  the  doomed  company.  In  addition  to  the  cold, 
sleet-like  snow,  a  fierce,  penetrating  wind  seemed  to  freeze 
the  very  marrow  in  their  bones.  The  relief  party  had  urged 
the  tired,  hungry,  enfeebled  emigrants  forward  at  the  great- 
est possible  speed  all  day,  in  order  to  get  as  near  the  settle- 
ments as  they  could  before  the  storm  should  burst  upon  them. 
Besides,  their  provisions  were  exhausted,  and  they  were 
anxious  to  reach  certain  caches  of  supplies  which  they  had 
made  while  going  to  the  cabins.  Fearing  that  the  storm 
would  prevent  the  party  from  reaching  these  caches,  Mr. 
Reed  sent  Joseph  Jondro,  Matthew  Dofar,  and  Hiram  Tur- 
ner forward  to  the  first  cache,  with  instructions  to  get  the 


BLACK    DESPAIR.  I/I 

provisions  and  return  to  the  suffering  emigrants.  That  very 
night  the  storm  came,  and  the  three  men  had  not  been  heard 
from. 

The  camp  was  in  a  most  inhospitable  spot.  Exposed  to 
the  fury  of  the  wind  and  storm,  shelterless,  supperless,  over- 
whelmed with  discouragements,  the  entire  party  sank  down 
exhausted  upon  the  snow.  The  entire  party?  No!  There 
was  one  man  who  never  ceased  to  work.  When  a  fire  had 
been  kindled,  and  nearly  every  one  had  given  up,  this  one 
man,  unaided,  continued  to  strive  to  erect  some  sort  of  shel- 
ter to  protect  the  defenseless  women  and  children.  Planting 
large  pine  boughs  in  the  snow,  he  banked  up  the  snow  on 
either  side  of  them  so  as  to  form  a  wall.  Hour  after  hour, 
in  the  darkness  and  raging  storm,  he  toiled  on  alone,  build- 
ing the  sheltering  breastwork  which  was  to  ward  off  death 
from  the  party  who  by  this  time  had  crept  shiveringly  under 
its  protection.  But  for  this  shelter,  all  would  have  perished 
before  morning.  At  midnight  the  man  was  still  at  work. 
The  darting  snow  particles  seemed  to  cut  his  eye-balls,  and 
the  glare  of  the  fire  and  the  great  physical  exhaustion  under 
which  he  was  laboring,  gradually  rendered  him  blind.  Like 
his  companions,  he  had  borne  a  child  in  his  arms  all  day 
over  the  soft,  yielding  snow.  Like  them,  he  was  drenched  to 
the  skin,  and  his  clothing  was  frozen  stiff  and  hard  with  ice. 
Yet  he  kept  up  the  fire,  built  a  great  sheltering  wall  about 
the  sufferers,  and  went  here  and  there  amongst  the  wailing 
and  dying.  With  unabated  violence  the  storm  continued  its 
relentless  fury.  The  survivors  say  it  was  the  coldest  night 
they  ever  experienced.  There  is  a  limit  to  human  endurance. 
The  man  was  getting  stone-blind.  Had  he  attempted  to 
speak,  his  tongue  would  have  cloven  to  the  roof  of  his  mouth. 
His  senses  were  chilled,  blunted,  dead.  Sleep  had  stilled  the 
plaintive  cries  of  those  about  him.     All  was  silent  save  the 


172  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

storm.  Without  knowing  it,  this  heroic  man  was  yielding  to 
a  sleep  more  powerful  than  that  which  had  overcome  his 
companions.  While  trying  to  save  those  who  were  weaker 
than  himself,  he  had  been  literally  freezing.  Sightless,  be- 
numbed, moving  half  unconsciously  about  his  work,  he 
staggered,  staggered,  staggered,  and  finally  sank  in  the  snow. 
All  slept!  As  he  put  no  more  fuel  upon  the  fire,  the  flames 
died  down.  The  logs  upon  which  the  fire  had  rested  gave 
way,  and  most  of  the  coals  fell  upon  the  snow.  They  were 
in  almost  total  darkness. 

Presently  some  one  awoke.  It  was  Mrs.  Breen,  whose 
motherly  watchfulness  prevented  more  than  a  few  consecu- 
tive moments'  sleep.  The  camp  was  quickly  aroused.  All 
were  nearly  frozen.  Hiram  Miller's  hands  were  so  cold  and 
frosted  that  the  skin  on  the  fingers  cracked  open  when  he 
tried  to  split  some  kindlings.  At  last  the  fire  was  somehow 
renewed.  Meantime  they  had  discovered  their  leader — he 
who  had  been  working  throughout  the  night — lying  cold, 
speechless,  and  apparently  dead  upon  the  snow.  Hiram  Mil- 
ler and  Wm.  McCutchen  carried  the  man  to  the  fire,  chafed 
his  hands  and  limbs,  rubbed  his  body  vigorously,  and  worked 
with  him  as  hard  as  they  could  for  two  hours  before  he 
showed  signs  of  returning  consciousness.  Redoubling  their 
exertions,  they  kept  at  work  until  the  cold,  gray  morning 
dawned,  ere  the  man  was  fully  restored.  Would  you  know 
the  name  of  this  man,  this  hero  ?  It  was  James  Frazier 
Reed. 

From  this  time  forward,  all  the  toil,  all  the  responsibility 
devolved  upon  Wm.  McCutchen  and  Hiram  Miller.  Jondro, 
Dofar,  and  Turner  were  caught  in  the  drifts  ahead.  The 
fishers  or  other  wild  animals  had  almost  completely  de- 
voured the  first  cache  of  provisions,  and  while  these  men 
were  trying  to  reach  the  second  cache,  the  storm  imprisoned 


A  PICTURE  OF  DESOLATION  173 

them.  They  could  neither  go  forward  nor  return.  Cady  and 
Stone  were  between  Donner  Lake  and  Starved  Camp,  and 
were  in  a  like  helpless  condition.  McCutchen  and  Miller 
were  the  only  ones  able  to  do  anything  toward  saving  the 
poor  creatures  who  were  huddled  together  at  the  miserable 
camp.  All  the  other  men  were  completely  disheartened  by 
the  fearful  calamity  which  had  overtaken  them.  But  for  the 
untiring  exertions  of  these  two  men,  death  to  all  would  have 
been  certain.  McCutchen  had  on  four  shirts,  and  yet  he  be- 
came so  chilled  while  trying  to  kindle  the  fire,  that  in  getting 
warm  he  burned  the  back  out  of  his  shirts.  He  only  discov- 
ered the  mishap  by  the  scorching  and  burning  of  his  flesh. 

What  a  picture  of  desolation  was  presented  to  the  inmates 
of  Starved  Camp  during  the  next  three  days!  It  stormed 
incessantly.  One  who  has  not  witnessed  a  storm  on  the 
Sierra  can  not  imagine  the  situation.  A  quotation  from  Bret 
Harte's  ".Gabriel  Conroy  "  will  afford  the  best  idea  of  the  situ- 
ation : 

"  Snow.  Everywhere.  As  far  as  the  eye  could  reach — 
fifty  miles,  looking  southward  from  the  highest  white  peak. 
Filling  ravines  and  gulches,  and  dropping  from  the  walls  of 
canyons  in  white  shroud-like  drifts,  fashioning  the  dividing 
ridge  into  the  likeness  of  a  monstrous  grave,  hiding  the  bases 
of  giant  pines,  and  completely  covering  young  trees  and 
larches,  rimming  with  porcelain  the  bowl-like  edges  of  still, 
cold  lakes,  and  undulating  in  motionless  white  billows  to  the 
edge  of  the  distant  horizon.  Snow  lying  everywhere  on  the 
California  Sierra,  and  still  falling.  It  had  been  snowing  in 
finely  granulated  powder,  in  damp,  spongy  flakes,  in  thin, 
feathery  plumes;  snowing  from  a  leaden  sky  steadily,  snow- 
ing fiercely,  shaken  out  of  purple-black  clouds  in  white 
flocculent  masses,  or  dropping  in  long  level  lines  like  white 
lances  from  the  tumbled  and  broken  heavens.     But  always 


174  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

silently !  The  woods  were  so  choked  with  it,  it  had  so  cush- 
ioned and  muffled  the  ringing  rocks  and  echoing  hills,  that 
all  sound  was  deadened.  The  strongest  gust,  the  fiercest 
blast,  awoke  no  sigh  or  complaint  from  the  snow-packed, 
rigid  files  of  forest.  There  was  no  cracking  of  bough  nor 
crackle  of  underbrush;  the  overladen  branches  of  pine  and 
fir  yielded  and  gave  away  without  a  sound.  The  silence  was 
vast,  measureless,  complete  !" 

In  alluding  to  these  terrible  days,  in  his  diary,  Mr.  Reed 
says,  under  date  of  March  6 : 

"With  the  snow  there  is  a  perfect  hurricane.  In  the  night 
there  is  a  great  crying  among  the  children,  and  even  with  the 
parents  there  is  praying,  crying,  and  lamentation  on  account 
of  the  cold  and  the  dread  of  death  from  hunger  and  the 
howling  storm.  The  men  up  nearly  all  night  making  fires. 
Some  of  the  men  began  praying.  Several  of  them  became 
blind.  I  could  not  see  the  light  of  the  fire  blazing  before  me, 
nor  tell  when  it  was  burning.  The  light  of  heaven  is,  as  it 
were,  shut  out  from  us.  The  snow  blows  so  thick  and  fast 
that  we  can  not  see  twenty  feet  looking  against  the  wind.  I 
dread  the  coming  night.  Three  of  my  men  only,  able  to  get 
wood.  The  rest  have  given  out  for  the  present.  It  is  still 
snowing,  and  very  cold.  So  cold  that  the  few  men  employed 
in  cutting  the  dry  trees  down,  have  to  come  and  warm  about 
every  ten  minutes.  'Hungry!'  'Hungry!'  is  the  cry  with 
the  children,  and  nothing  to  give  them.  'Freezing!'  is  the 
cry  of  the  mothers  who  have  nothing  for  their  little,  starving, 
freezing  children.  Night  closing  fast,  and  with  it  the  hurri- 
cane increases. 

"  Mar.  7.  Thank  God  day  has  once  more  appeared,  al- 
though darkened  by  the  storm.  Snowing  as  fast  as  ever, 
and  the  hurricane  has  never  ceased  for  ten  minutes  at  a  time 
durincT  one  of  the  most  dismal  nights  I  have  ever  witnessed. 


THE   SLEEP    OF   DEATH.  1 75 

I  hope  I  shall  never  witness  another  such  in  a  similar  situa- 
tion. Of  all  the  praying  and  crying  I  ever  heard,  nothing 
ever  equaled  it.  Several  times  I  expected  to  see  the  people 
perish  of  the  extreme  cold.  At  one  time  our  fire  was  nearly 
gone,  and  had  it  not  been  for  McCutchen 's  exertions  it  would 
have  entirely  disappeared.  If  the  fire  had  been  lost,  two 
thirds  of  the  camp  would  have  been  out  of  their  misery  be- 
fore morning ;  but,  as  God  would  have  it,  we  soon  had  it 
blazing  comfortably,  and  the  sufferings  of  the  people  became 
less  for  a  time.  Hope  began  to  animate  the  bo'soms  of 
many,  young  and  old,  when  the  cheering  blaze  rose  through 
the  dry  pine  logs  we  had  piled  together.  One  would  say, 
'  Thank  God  for  the  fire ! '  Another,  '  How  good  it  is ! '  The 
poor,  little,  half-starved,  half-frozen  children  would  say,  *  I'm 
glad,  I'm  glad  we  have  got  some  fire!  Oh,  how  good  it  feels! 
It  is  good  our  fire  didn't  go  out!'  At  times  the  storm  would 
burst  forth  with  such  fury  that  I  felt  alarmed  for  the  safety 
of  the  people  on  account  of  the  tall  timber  that  surrounded 
us." 

Death  entered  the  camp  on  the  first  night.  He  came  to 
claim  one  who  was  a  true,  faithful  mother.  One  who  merits 
greater  praise  than  language  can  convey.  Though  compara- 
tively little  has  been  told  concerning  her  life  by  the  survivors, 
doubt  not  that  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Graves  was  one  of  the  noblest 
of  the  mothers  of  the  Donner  Party.  Her  charity  is  kindly 
remembered  by  all  who  have  spoken  her  name.  To  her 
companions  in  misfortune  she  always  gave  such  fpod  as  she 
possessed;  for  her  children  she  now  gave  her  life.  The 
last  morsels  of  food,  the  last  grain  of  flour,  she  had  placed 
in  the  mouths  of  her  babes,  though  she  was  dying  of  starva- 
tion. 

Mrs.  Farnham,  who  talked  personally  with  Mrs.  Breen, 
gives  the  following  description  of  that  terrible  night : 


1/6  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER    PARTY. 

"  Mrs.  Breen  told  me  that  she  had  her  husband  and  five 
children  together,  lying  with  their  feet  to  the  fire,  and  their 
heads  under  shelter  of  the  snow  breast-work.  She  sat  by 
them,  with  only  moccasins  on  her  feet,  and  a  blanket  drawn 
over  her  shoulders  and  head,  within  which,  and  a  shawl  she 
constantly  wore,  she  nursed  her  poor  baby  on  her  knees. 
Her  milk  had  been  gone  several  days,  and  the  child  was  so 
emaciated  and  lifeless  that  she  scarcely  expected  at  any  time 
on  opening  the  covering  to  find  it  alive.  Mrs.  Graves  lay 
with  her  babe  and  three  or  four  older  children  at  the  other 
side  of  the  fire.  The  storm  was  very  violent  all  night,  and 
she  watched  through  it,  dozing  occasionally  for  a  few 
minutes,  and  then  rousing  herself  to  brush  the  snow  and 
flying  sparks  from  the  covering  of  the  sleepers.  Toward 
morning  she  heard  one  of  the  young  girls  opposite  call  to 
her  mother  to  cover  her.  The  call  was  repeated  several 
times  impatiently,  when  she  spoke  to  the  child,  reminding 
her  of  the  exhaustion  and  fatigue  her  mother  suffered  in 
nursing  and  carrying  the  baby,  and  bidding  her  cover  herself, 
and  let  her  mother  rest.  Presently  she  heard  the  mother 
speak,  in  a  quiet,  unnatural  tone,  and  she  called  to  one  of 
the  men  near  her  to  go  and  speak  to  her.  He  arose  after  a 
few  minutes  and  found  the  poor  sufferer  almost  past  speak- 
ing. He  took  her  infant,  and  after  shaking  the  snow  from 
her  blanket,  covered  her  as  well  as  might  be.  Shortly  after, 
Mrs.  Breen  observed  her  to  turn  herself  slightly,  and  throw 
one  arm  feebly  up,  as  if  to  go  to  sleep.  She  waited  a  little 
while,  and  seeing  her  remain  quite  still,  she  walked  around 
to  her.  She  was  already  cold  in  death.  Her  poor  starving 
child  wailed,  and  moaned  piteously  in  the  arms  of  its  young 
sister,  but  the  mother's  heart  could  no  more  warm  or 
nourish  it." 

The  members  of  the  second  relief  party  realized  that  they 


A    PITEOUS    FAREWELL.  1 77 

were  themselves  in  imminent  danger  of  death.  They  were 
powerless  to  carry  the  starving  children  over  the  deep,  soft, 
treacherous  snow,  and  it  was  doubtful  if  they  would  be  able 
to  reach  the  settlements  unincumbered.  Isaac  Donner,  one 
of  the  sons  of  Jacob  and  Elizabeth  Donner,  perished  during 
one  of  the  stormy  nights.  He  was  lying  on  the  bed  of  pine 
boughs  between  his  sister  Mary  and  Patty  Reed,  and  died  so 
quietly  that  neither  of  the  sleeping  girls  awoke. 

The  relief  party  determined  to  set  out  over  the  snow, 
hasten  to  the  settlements,  and  send  back  relief.  Solomon 
Hook,  Jacob  Donner's  oldest  boy,  insisted  that  he  was  able 
to  walk,  and  therefore  joined  the  party.  Hiram  Miller,  an 
old  friend  of  the  Reed  family,  took  little  Thomas  Reed  in 
his  arms,  and  set  out  with  the  others.  Patty  Reed,  full  of 
hope  and  courage,  refused  to  be  carried  by  her  father,  and 
started  on  foot. 

With  what  emotions  did  the  poor  sufferers  in  Starved 
Camp  watch  the  party  as  it  disappeared  among  the  pines! 
There  was  no  food  in  camp,  and  death  had  already  selected 
two  of  their  number.  What  a  pitiable  group  it  was!  Could 
a  situation  more  desolate  or  deplorable  be  imagined?  Mr. 
Breen,  as  has  been  heretofore  mentioned,  was  feeble,  sickly, 
and  almost  as  helpless  as  the  children.  Upon  Mrs.  Breen  de- 
volved the  care,  not  only  of  her  husband,  but  of  all  who  re- 
mained in  the  fatal  camp,  for  all  others  were  children.  John 
Breen,  their  eldest  son,  was  the  strongest  and  most  vigorous 
in  the  family,  yet  the  following  incident  shows  how  near  he 
was  to  death's  door.  It  must  have  occurred  the  morning  the 
relief  party  left.  The  heat  of  the  fire  had  melted  a  deep, 
round  hole  in  the  snow.  At  the  bottom  of  the  pit  was  the 
fire.  The  men  were  able  to  descend  the  sides  of  this  cavity, 
and  frequently  did  so  to  attend  to  the  fire.  At  one  time, 
while  William  McCutchen  was  down  by  the  fire,  John  Breen 


J  78  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER    PARTY. 

was  sitting  on  the  end  of  one  of  the  logs  on  which  the  fire 
had  originally  been  kindled.  Several  logs  had  been  laid  side 
by  side,  and  the  fire  had  been  built  in  the  middle  of  the  floor 
thus  constructed.  While  the  central  logs  had  burned  out 
and  let  the  fire  descend,  the  outer  logs  remained  with  their 
ends  on  the  firm  snow.  On  one  of  these  logs  John  Breen 
was  sitting.  Suddenly  overcome  by  fatigue  and  hunger,  he 
fainted  and  dropped  headlong  into  the  fire-pit.  Fortunately, 
Mr.  McCutchen  caught  the  falling  boy,  and  thus  saved  him 
from  a  horrible  death.  It  was  some  time  before  the  boy  was 
fully  restored  to  consciousness.  Mrs.  Breen  had  a  small 
quantity  of  sugar,  and  a  little  was  placed  between  his 
clenched  teeth.  This  seemed  to  revive  him,  and  he  not  only 
survived,  but  is  living  to-day,  the  head  of  a  large  family,  in 
San  Benito  County. 

Mrs.  Breen's  younger  children,  Patrick,  James,  Peter,  and 
the  nursing  babe,  Isabella,  were  completely  helpless  and  de- 
pendent. Not  less  helpless  were  the  orphan  children  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Graves.  Nancy  was  only  about  nine  years  old, 
and  upon  her  devolved  the  task  of  caring  for  the  babe, 
Elizabeth.  Nancy  Graves  is  now  the  wife  of  the  earnest  and 
eloquent  divine,  Rev.  R.  W.  Williamson,  of  Los  Gatos,  Santa 
Clara  County.  To  her  lasting  honor  be  it  said,  that  although 
she  was  dying  of  hunger  in  Starved  Camp,  yet  she  faithfully 
tended,  cared  for,  and  saved  her  baby  sister.  Aside  from 
occasional  bits  of  sugar,  this  baby  and  Mrs.  Breen's  had 
nothing  for  an  entire  week,  save  snow-water.  Besides  Nancy 
and  Elizabeth,  there  were  of  the  Graves  children,  Jonathan, 
aged  seven,  and  Franklin,  aged  five  years.  Franklin  soon 
perished.  Starvation  and  exposure  had  so  reduced  his  tiny 
frame,  that  he  could  not  endure  these  days  of  continual 
fasting. 

Mary  M.  Donner,  whom  all   mention  as  one  of  the  mcst 


A    VISION   OF   ANGELS.  1 79 

lovely  girls  in  the  Donner  Party,  met  with  a  cruel  accident 
the  night  before  the  relief  party  left  Starved  Camp.  Her 
feet  had  become  frozen  and  insensible  to  pain.  Happening 
to  lie  too  near  the  fire,  one  of  her  feet  became  dreadfully 
burned.  She  suffered  excruciating  agony,  yet  evinced  re- 
markable fortitude.  She  ultimately  lost  four  toes  from  her 
left  foot,  on  account  of  this  sad  occurrence. 

Seven  of  the  Breens,  Mary  Donner,  and  the  three  children 
of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Graves,  made  the  eleven  now  waiting  for 
relief  at  Starved  Camp.  Mrs.  Graves,  her  child  Frankhn, 
and  the  boy,  Isaac  Donner,  who  lay  stark  in  death  upon  the 
snow,  completed  the  fourteen  who  were  left  by  the  relief 
party. 

Meantime,  how  fared  it  with  those  who  were  pressing  for- 
ward toward  the  settlements?  At  each  step  they  sank  two 
or  three  feet  into  the  snow.  Of  course  those  who  were  ahead 
broke  the  path,  and  the  others,  as  far  as  possible,  stepped  in 
their  tracks.  This,  Patty  Reed  could  not  do,  because  she 
was  too  small.  So  determined  was  she,  however,  that  de- 
spite the  extra  exertion  she  was  compelled  to  undergo,  she 
would  not  admit  being  either  cold  or  fatigued.  Patty  Reed 
has  been  mentioned  as  only  eight  years  old.  Many  of  the 
survivors  speak  of  her,  however,  in  much  the  same  terms  as 
John  Breen,  who  says :  "  I  was  under  the  impression  that  she 
was  older.  She  had  a  wonderful  mind  for  one  of  her  age. 
She  had,  I  have  often  thought,  as  much  sense  as  a  grown 
person."  Over  Patty's  large,  dark  eyes,  on  this  morning, 
gradually  crept  a  film.  Previous  starvation  had  greatly  atten- 
uated her  system,  and  she  was  far  too  weak  to  endure  the 
hardship  she  had  undertaken.  Gradually  the  snow-mantled 
forests,  the  forbidding  mountains,  the  deep,  dark  canyon  of 
Bear  River,  and  even  the  forms  of  her  companions,  faded 
from  view.     In  their  stead  came  a  picture  of  such  glory  and 


:8o  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

brightness  as  seldom  comes  to  human  eyes.  It  was  a  vision 
of  angels  and  of  brilliant  stars.  She  commenced  calling  her 
father,  and  those  with  him,  and  began  talking  about  the  ra- 
diant forms  that  hovered  over  her.  Her  wan,  pale  face  was 
illumined  with  smiles,  and  with  an  ecstasy  of  joy  she  talked 
of  the  angels  and  stars,  and  of  the  happiness  she  experienced. 
"  Why,  Reed,"  exclaimed  McCutchen,  "  Patty  is  dying! "  And 
it  was  too  true. 

For  a  few  moments  the  party  forgot  their  own  sufferings 
and  trials,  and  ministered  to  the  wants  of  the  spirituelle  child, 
whose  entrance  into  the  dark  valley  had  been  heralded  by 
troops  of  white-winged  angels.  At  Starved  Camp,  Reed  had 
taken  the  hard,  frozen  sacks  in  which  the  provisions  had 
been  carried,  and  by  holding  them  to  the  fire  had  thawed  out 
the  seams,  and  scraped  therefrom  about  a  teaspoonful  of 
crumbs.  These  he  had  placed  in  the  thumb  of  his  woolen 
mitten  to  be  used  in  case  of  emergency.  Little  did  he  sup- 
pose that  the  emergency  would  come  so  soon.  Warming 
and  moistening  these  crumbs  between  his  own  lips,  the  father 
placed  them  in  his  child's  mouth.  Meantime  they  had 
wrapped  a  blanket  around  her  chilled  form,  and  were  busily 
chafing  her  hands  and  feet.  Her  first  return  to  conscious- 
ness was  signaled  by  the  regrets  she  expressed  at  having 
been  awakened  from  her  beautiful  dream.  To  this  day  she 
cherishes  the  memory  of  that  vision  as  the  dearest,  most  en- 
chanting of  all  her  life.  After  this,  some  of  the  kind-hearted 
Frenchmen  in  the  party  took  turns  with  Reed  in  carrying 
Patty  upon  their  backs. 

Past-midshipman  S.  E.  Woodworth  is  a  name  that  in  most 
published  accounts  figures  conspicuously  among  the  relief 
parties  organized  to  rescue  the  Donner  Party.  At  the  time 
Reed  and  his  companions  were  suffering  untold  horrors  on 
the  mountains,  and  those  left  at  Starved  Camp  were  perishing 


A  child's  treasures.  i8i 

of  starvation,  Woodworth,  with  an  abundance  of  supplies, 
was  lying  idle  in  camp  at  Bear  Valley.  This  was  the  part 
that  Selim  E.  Woodworth  took  in  the  relief  of  the  sufferers. 
The  three  men  who  had  been  sent  forward  to  the  caches, 
left  the  remnant  of  the  provisions  which  had  not  been  de- 
stroyed, where  it  could  easily  be  seen  by  Reed  and  his 
companions.  Hurrying  forward,  they  reached  Woodworth's 
camp,  and  two  men,  John  Stark  and  Howard  Oakley,  re- 
I  turned  and  met  Reed's  party.  It  was  quite  time.  With 
frozen  feet  and  exhausted  bodies,  the  members  of  the  second 
relief  were  in  a  sad  plight.  They  left  the  settlements  strong, 
hearty  men.  They  returned  in  a  half-dead  condition.  Sev- 
eral lost  some  of  their  toes  on  account  of  having  them  frozen, 
and  one  or  two  were  crippled  for  life.  They  had  been  three 
days  on  the  way  from  Starved  Camp  to  Woodworth's.  Cady 
and  Stone  overtook  Reed  and  his  companions  on  the  second 
day  after  leaving  Starved  Camp.  On  the  night  of  the  third 
day,  they  arrived  at  Woodworth's. 

When  Patty  Reed  reached  Woodworth's  and  had  been 
provided  with  suitable  food,  an  incident  occurred  which  fully 
illustrates  the  tenderness  and  womanliness  of  her  nature. 
Knowing  that  her  mother  and  dear  ones  were  safe,  knowing 
that  relief  would  speedily  return  to  those  on  the  mountains, 
realizing  that  for  her  there  was  to  be  no  more  hunger,  or 
snow,  and  that  she  would  no  longer  be  separated  from  her 
father,  her  feelings  may  well  be  imagined.  In  her  quiet  joy 
she  was  not  wholly  alone.  Hidden  away  in  her  bosom, 
during  all  the  suffering  and  agony  of  the  journey  over  the 
mountains,  were  a  number  of  childish  treasures.  First,  there 
was  a  lock  of  silvery  gray  hair  which  her  own  hand  had  cut 
from  the  head  of  her  Grandmother  Keyes  way  back  on  the 
Big  Blue  River.  Patty  had  always  been  a  favorite  with  her 
grandma,  and  when  the  latter  died,  Patty  secured  this  lock  of 


1 82  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER   PARTY. 

hair.  She  tied  it  up  in  a  httle  piece  of  old-fashioned  lawn, 
dotted  with  wee  blue  flowers,  and  ahvays  carried  it  in  her 
bosom.  But  this  was  not  all.  She  had  a  dainty  httle  glass 
salt-cellar,  scarcely  larger  than  the  inside  of  a  humming-bird's 
nest,  and,  what  was  more  precious  than  this,  a  tiny,  wooden 
doll.  This  doll  had  been  her  constant  companion.  It  had 
black  eyes  and  hair,  and  was  indeed  very  pretty.  At  Wood- 
worth's  camp,  Patty  told  "  Dolly"  all  her  joy  and  gladness, 
and  who  can  not  pardon  the  little  girl  for  thinking  her  dolly 
looked  happy  as  she  listened  ? 

Patty  Reed  is  now  Mrs.  Frank  Lewis,  of  San  Jose,  Cal. 
She  has  a  pleasant  home  and  a  beautiful  family  of  children. 
Yet  oftentimes  the  mother,  the  grown-up  daughters,  and  the 
younger  members  of  the  family,  gather  with  tear-dimmed 
eyes  about  a  little  sacred  box.  In  this  box  is  the  lock  of 
hair  in  the  piece  of  lawn,  the  tiny  salt-cellar,  the  much  loved 
"  Dolly,"  and  an  old  woolen  mitten,  in  the  thumb  of  which 
are  yet  the  traces  of  fine  crumbs. 


Chapter  XVL 


A  Mother  at  Starved  Camp — Repeating  the  Litany — Hoping  in  Despair — Wast- 
ing Away — The  Precious  Lump  of  Sugar — "James  is  Dying" — Restoring  a 
Life— Relentless  Hunger— The  Silent  Night-Vigils— The  Sight  of  Earth — 
Descending  the  Snow-Pit — The  Flesh  of  the  Dead — Refusing  to  Eat — The 
Morning  Star — The  Mercy  of  God — The  Mutilated  Forms — The  Dizziness 
of  Delirium — Faith  Rewarded — "There  is  Mrs.  Breen  !" 

ISBij^^ERY  noble  was  the  part  which  Mrs.  Margaret  Breen 
1^  performed  in  this  Donner  tragedy,  and  very  beauti- 
fully has  that  part  been  recorded  by  a  woman's  hand. 
i/)|||i  It  is  written  so  tenderly,  so  delicately,  and  with  so 
^  much  reverence  for  the  maternal  love  which  alone 
sustained  Mrs.  Breen,  that  it  can  hardly  be  improved.  This 
account  was  published  by  its  author,  Mrs.  Farnham,  in  1849, 
and  is  made  the  basis  of  the  following  sketch.  With  altera- 
tions here  and  there,  made  for  the  sake  of  brevity,  the  article 
is  as  it  was  written: 

There  was  no  food  in  Starved  Camp.  There  was  nothing 
to  eat  save  a  few  seeds,  tied  in  bits  of  cloth,  that  had  been 
brought  along  by  some  one,  and  the  precious  lump  of  sugar. 
There  were  also  a  few  teaspoonfuls  of  tea.  They  sat  and  lay 
by  the  fire  most  of  the  day,  with  what  heavy  hearts,  who 
shall  know!  They  were  upon  about  thirty  feet  of  ^now. 
The  dead  lay  before  them,  a  ghastlier  sight  in  the  sunshine 


184  HISTORY   OF  THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

that  succeeded  the  storm,  than  when  the  dark  clouds  over- 
hung them.  They  had  no  words  of  cheer  to  speak  to  each 
other,  no  courage  or  hope  to  share,  but  those  which  pointed 
to  a  life  where  hunger  and  cold  could  never  come,  and  their 
benumbed  faculties  were  scarcely  able  to  seize  upon  a  con- 
solation so  remote  from  the  thoughts  and  wants  that  ab- 
sorbed their  whole  being. 

A  situation  like  this  will  not  awaken  in  common  natures 
religious  trust.  Under  such  protracted  suffering,  the  animal 
outgrows  the  spiritual  in  frightful  disproportion.  Yet  the 
mother's  sublime  faith,  which  had  brought  her  thus  far 
through  her  agonies,  with  a  heart  still  warm  toward  those 
who  shared  them,  did  not  fail  her  now.  She  spoke  gently  to 
one  and  another;  asked  her  husband  to  repeat  the  litany, 
and  the  children  to  join  her  in  the  responses;  and  endeavored 
to  fix  their  minds  upon  the  time  when  the  relief  would  prob- 
ably come.  Nature,  as  unerringly  as  philosophy  could  have 
done,  taught  her  that  the  only  hope  of  sustaining  those 
about  her,  was  to  set  before  them  a  termination  to  their 
sufferings. 

What  days  and  nights  were  those  that  went  by  while  they 
waited!  Life  waning  visibly  in  those  about  her;  not  a  morsel 
of  food  to  offer  them;  her  own  infant — and  the  little  one 
that  had  been  cherished  and  saved  through  all  by  the  mother 
now  dead — wasting  hourly  into  the  more  perfect  image  of 
death;  her  husband  worn  to  a  skeleton;  it  needed  the  fullest 
measure  of  exalted  faith,  of  womanly  tenderness  and  self- 
sacrifice,  to  sustain  her  through  such  a  season.  She  watched 
by  night  as  well  as  by  day.  She  gathered  wood  to  keep 
them  warm.  She  boiled  the  handful  of  tea  and  dispensed  it 
to  them,  and  when  she  found  one  sunken  and  speechless,  she 
broke  with  her  teeth  a  morsel  of  the  precious  sugar,  and  put 
it  in  his  lips.     She  fed  her  babe  freely  on  snow-water,  and 


NICHOLAS  CLARK. 

1879. 


RESTORING   A    LIFE.  I  85 

scanty  as  was  the  wardrobe  she  had,  she  managed  to  get  fresh 
clothing  next  to  its  skin  two  or  three  times  a  week.  Where, 
one  asks  in  wonder  and  reverence,  did  she  get  the  strength 
and  courage  for  all  this?  She  sat  all  night  by  her  family,  her 
elbows  on  her  knees,  brooding  over  the  meek  little  victim 
that  lay  there,  watching  those  who  slept,  and  occasionall)' 
dozing  with  a  fearful  consciousness  of  their  terrible  condition 
always  upon  her.  The  sense  of  peril  never  slumbered.  Man}- 
times  during  the  night  she  went  to  the  sleepers  to  ascertain  if 
they  all  still  breathed.  She  put  her  hand  under  their  blankets, 
and  held  it  before  the  mouth.  In  this  way  she  assured  her- 
self that  they  were  yet  alive.  But  once  her  blood  curdled  to 
find,  on  approaching  her  hand  to  the  lips  of  one  of  her  own 
children,  there  was  no  warm  breath  upon  it.  She  tried  to 
open  his  mouth,  and  found  the  jaws  set.  She  roused  her  hus- 
band, "Oh!  Patrick,  man!  arise  and  help  me!  James  is  dy- 
ing!" "  Let  him  die!"  said  the  miserable  father,  "he  will  be 
better  off  than  any  of  us."  She  was  terribly  shocked  by  this 
reply.  In  her  own  expressive  language,  her  heart  stood  still 
when  she  heard  it.  She  was  bewildered,  and  knew  not  where 
to  set  her  weary  hands  to  work,  but  she  recovered  in  a  few 
moments  and  began  to  chafe  the  breast  and  hands  of  the 
perishing  boy.  She  broke  a  bit  of  sugar,  and  with  consid- 
erable effort  forced  it  between  his  teeth  with  a  few  drops  of 
snow-water.  She  saw  him  swallow,  then  a  slight  convulsive 
motion  stirred  his  features,  he  stretched  his  limbs  feebly,  and 
in  a  moment  more  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  upon  her. 
How  fervent  were  her  thanks  to  the  Great  Father,  whom  she 
forgot  not  day  or  night. 

Thus  she  went  on.  The  tea  leaves  were  eaten,  the  seeds 
chewed,  the  sugar  all  dispensed.  The  days  were  bright,  and 
compared  with  the  nights,  comfortable.  Occasionally,  when 
the  sun  shone,  their  voices  were  heard,  though  generally  they 


1 86  HISTORY   OF  THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

sat  or  lay  in  a  kind  of  stupor  from  which  she  often  found  it 
alarmingly  difficult  to  arouse  them.  When  the  gray  evening 
twilight  drew  its  deepening  curtain  over  the  cold  glittering 
heavens  and  the  icy  waste,  and  when  the  famishing  bodies 
had  been  covered  from  the  frost  that  pinched  them  with  but 
little  less  keenness  than  the  unrelenting  hunger,  the  solitude 
seemed  to  rend  her  very  brain.  Her  own  powers  faltered. 
But  she  said  her  prayers  over  many  times  in  the  darkness 
as  well  as  the  light,  and  always  with  renewed  trust  in  Him 
who  had  not  yet  forsaken  her,  and  thus  she  sat  out  her 
weary  watch.  After  the  turning  of  the  night  she  always  sat 
watching  for  the  morning  star,  which  seemed  every  time  she 
saw  it  rise  clear  in  the  cold  eastern  sky,  to  renew  the  promise, 
"As  thy  day  is,  so  shall  thy  strength  be." 

Their  fire  had  melted  the  snow  to  a  considerable  depth, 
and  they  were  lying  on  the  bank  above.  Thus  they  had  less 
of  its  heat  than  they  needed,  and  found  some  difficulty  in 
getting  the  fuel  she  gathered  placed  so  it  would  burn.  One 
morning  after  she  had  hailed  her  messenger  of  promise,  and 
the  light  had  increased  so  as  to  render  objects  visible  in  the 
distance,  she  looked  as  usual  over  the  white  expanse  that  lay 
to  the  south-west,  to  see  if  any  dark  moving  specks  were 
visible  upon  its  surface.  Only  the  tree-tops,  which  she  had 
scanned  so  often  as  to  be  quite  familiar  with  their  appear- 
ance, were  to  be  seen.  With  a  heavy  heart  she  brought 
herself  back  from  that  distant  hope  to  consider  what  was 
immediately  about  her.  The  fire  had  sunk  so  far  away  that 
they  had  felt  but  little  of  its  warmth  the  last  two  nights,  and 
casting  her  eyes  down  into  the  snow-pit,  whence  it  sent  forth 
only  a  dull  glow,  she  thought  she  saw  the  welcome  face  of 
beloved  mother  Earth.  It  was  such  a  renewing  sight  after 
their  long,  freezing  separation  from  it !  She  immediately 
aroused  her  eldest  son,  John,  and  with  a  great  deal  of  diffi- 


REFUSING  TO   EAT.  1 8,/ 

culty,  and  repeating  words  of  cheer  and  encouragement, 
brought  him  to  understand  that  she  wished  him  to  descend 
by  one  of  the  tree-tops  which  had  fallen  in  so  as  to  make  a 
sort  of  ladder,  and  see  if  they  could  reach  the  naked  earth, 
and  if  it  were  possible  for  them  all  to  go  down.  She 
trembled  with  fear  at  the  vacant  silence  in  which  he  at  first 
gazed  at  her,  but  at  length,  after  she  had  told  him  a  great 
many  times,  he  said  "Yes,  mother,"  and  went. 

He  reached  the  bottom  safely,  and  presently  spoke  to  her. 
There  was  naked,  dry  earth  under  his  feet;  it  was  warm,  and 
he  wished  her  to  come  down.  She  laid  her  baby  beside 
some  of  the  sleepers,  and  descended.  Immediately  she  de- 
termined upon  taking  them  all  down.  How  good,  she 
thought,  as  she  descended  the  boughs,  was  the  God  whom 
she  trusted.  By  perseverence,  by  entreaty,  by  encourage- 
ment, and  with  her  own  aid,  she  got  them  into  this  snug 
shelter. 

Relief  came  not,  and  as  starvation  crept  closer  and  closer 
to  himself  and  those  about  him,  Patrick  Breen  determined 
that  it  was  his  duty  to  employ  the  means  of  sustaining  life 
which  God  seemed  to  have  placed  before  them.  The  lives 
of  all  might  be  saved  by  resorting  to  such  food  as  others,  in 
like  circumstances,  had  subsisted  upon.  Mrs.  Breen,  how- 
ever, declared  that  she  would  die,  and  see  her  children  die, 
before  her  life  or  theirs  should  be  preserved  by  such  means. 
If  ever  the  father  gave  to  the  dying  children,  it  was  without 
her  consent  or  knowledge.  She  never  tasted,  nor  knew  of 
her  children  partaking.  Mrs.  Farnham  says  that  when  Pat- 
rick Breen  ascended  to  obtain  the  dreadful  repast,  his  wife, 
frozen  with  horror,  hid  her  face  in  her  hands,  and  could  not 
look  up.  She  was  conscious  of  his  return,  and  of  something 
going  on  about  the  fire,  but  she  could  not  bring  herself  to 
uncover  her  eyes   till   all   had  subsided  again   into  silence. 


1 88  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER   PARTY. 

Her  husband  remarked  that  perhaps  they  were  wrong  in 
rejecting  a  means  of  sustaining  life  of  which  others  had 
availed  themselves,  but  she  put  away  the  suggestion  so  fear- 
fully that  it  was  never  renewed,  nor  acted  upon  by  any 
of  her  family.  She  and  her  children  were  now,  indeed, 
reaching  the  utmost  verge  of  life.  A  little  more  battle  with 
the  grim  enemies  that  had  pursued  them  so  relentlessly, 
twenty-four,  or  at  most  forty-eight  hours  of  such  warfare, 
and  all  would  be  ended.  The  infants  still  breathed,  but  were 
so  wasted  they  could  only  be  moved  by  raising  them  bodily 
with  the  hands.  It  seemed  as  if  even  their  light  weight 
would  have  dragged  the  limbs  from  their  bodies.  Occasion- 
ally, through  the  day,  she  ascended  the  tree  to  look  out.  It 
was  an  incident  now,  and  seemed  to  kindle  more  life  than 
when  it  only  required  a  turn  of  the  head  or  a  glance  of  the 
eye  to  tell  that  there  was  no  living  thing  near  them.  She 
could  no  longer  walk  on  the  snow,  but  she  had  still  strength 
enough  to  crawl  from  tree  to  tree  to  gather  a  few  boughs, 
which  she  threw  along  before  her  to  the  pit,  and  piled  them 
in  to  renew  the  fire.  The  eighth  day  was  passed.  On  the 
ninth  morning  she  ascended  to  watch  for  her  star  of  mercy. 
Clear  and  bright  it  stood  over  against  her  beseeching  gaze, 
set  in  the  light  liquid  blue  that  overflows  the  pathway  of  the 
opening  day.  She  prayed  earnestly  as  she  gazed,  for  she 
knew  that  there  were  but  few  hours  of  life  in  those  dearest 
to  her.  If  human  aid  came  not  that  day,  some  eyes,  that 
would  soon  look  imploringly  into  hers,  would  be  closed  in 
death  before  that  star  would  rise  again.  Would  she  herself, 
with  all  her  endurance  and  resisting  love,  live  to  see  it? 
Were  they  at  length  to  perish?  Great  God!  should  it  be 
permitted  that  they,  who  had  been  preserved  through  so 
much,  should  die  at  last  so  miserably? 

Her  eyes  were  dim,  and  her  sight  wavering.    She  could  not 


FAITH   REWARDED.  1 89 

distinguish  trees  from  men  on  the  snow,  but  had  they  been 
near,  she  could  have  heard  them,  for  her  ear  had  grown  so 
sensitive  that  the  slightest  unaccustomed  noise  arrested  her 
attention.  She  went  below  with  a  heavier  heart  than  ever 
before.  She  had  not  a  word  of  hope  to  answer  the  languid, 
inquiring  countenances  that  were  turned  to  her  face,  and  she 
was  conscious  that  it  told  the  story  of  her  despair.  Yet  she 
strove  with  some  half-insane  words  to  suggest  that  somebody 
would  surely  come  to  them  that  day.  Another  would  be  too 
late,  and  the  pity  of  men's  hearts  and  the  mercy  of  God 
would  surely  bring  them.  The  pallor  of  death  seemed  al- 
ready to  be  stealing  over  the  sunken  countenances  that 
surrounded  her,  and,  weak  as  she  was,  she  could  remain 
below  but  a  few  minutes  together.  She  felt  she  could  have 
died  had  she  let  go  her  resolution  at  any  time  within  the  last 
forty-eight  hours.  They  repeated  the  Litany.  The  responses 
came  so  feebly  that  they  were  scarcely  audible,  and  the  pro- 
tracted utterances  seemeld  wearisome.  At  last  it  was  over, 
and  they  rested  in  silence. 

The  sun  mounted  high  and  higher  in  the  heavens,  and 
when  the  day  was  three  or  four  hours  old  she  placed  her 
trembling  feet  again  upon  the  ladder  to  look  out  once  more. 
The  corpses  of  the  dead  lay  always  before  her  as  she  reached 
the  top — the  mother  and  her  son,  and  the  little  boy,  whose 
remains  she  could  not  even  glance  at  since  they  had  been 
mutilated.  The  blanket  that  covered  them  could  not  shut 
out  the  horror  of  the  sight. 

The  rays  of  the  sun  fell  on  her  with  a  friendly  warmth,  but 
she  could  not  look  into  the  light  that  flooded  the  white  ex- 
panse. Her  eyes  lacked  strength  and  steadiness,  and  she 
rested  herself  against  a  tree  and  endeavored  to  gather  her 
wandering  faculties  in  vain.  The  enfeebled  will  could  no 
longer  hold  rule  over  them.     She  had  broken  perceptions, 


190  HISTORY   OF  THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

fragments  of  visions,  contradictory  and  mixed — former  min- 
gled with  latter  times.  Recollections  of  plenty  and  rural 
peace  came  up  from  her  clear,  tranquil  childhood,  which 
seemed  to  have  been  another  state  of  existence;  flashes  of 
her  latter  life — its  comfort  and  abundance — gleams  of  ma- 
ternal pride  in  her  children  who  had  been  growing  up  about 
her  to  ease  and  independence. 

She  lived  through  all  the  phases  which  her  simple  life  had 
ever  worn,  in  the  few  moments  of  repose  after  the  dizzy  effort 
of  ascending;  as  the  thin  blood  left  her  whirling  brain  and 
returned  to  its  shrunken  channels,  she  grew  more  clearly 
conscious  of  the  terrible  present,  and  remembered  the  weary 
quest  upon  which  she  came.  It  was  not  the  memory  of 
thought,  it  was  that  of  love,  the  old  tugging  at  the  heart  that 
had  never  relaxed  long  enough  to  say,  "Now  I  am  done;  I 
can  bear  no  more!"  The  miserable  ones  down  there — for 
them  her  wavering  life  came  back;  at  thought  of  them  she 
turned  her  face  listlessly  the  way  it  had  so  often  gazed.  But 
this  time  something  caused  it  to  flush  as  if  the  blood,  thin 
and  cold  as  it  was,  would  burst  its  vessels!  What  was  it? 
Nothing  that  she  saw,  for  her  eyes  were  quite  dimmed  by 
the  sudden  access  of  excitement!  It  was  the  sound  of  voices! 
By  a  superhuman  effort  she  kept  herself  from  falling!  Was 
it  reality  or  delusion?  She  must  at  least  live  to  know  the 
truth.  It  came  again  and  again.  She  grew  calmer  as  she 
became  more  assured,  and  the  first  distinct  words  she  heard 
uttered  were,  "  There  is  Mrs.  Breen  alive  yet,  anyhow !  "  Three 
men  were  advancing  toward  her.  She  knew  that  now  there 
would  be  no  more  starving.  Death  was  repelled  for  this  time 
from  the  precious  little  flock  he  had  so  long  threatened,  and 
she  might  offer  up  thanksgiving  unchecked  by  the  dreads 
and  fears  that  had  so  long  frozen  her. 


Chapter  XVII. 


The  Rescue — California  Aroused — A  Verba  Buena  Newspaper — Tidings  of  Woe 
— A  Cry  of  Distress — Noble  Generosity — Subscriptions  for  the  Donner 
Party — The  First  and  Second  Reliefs — Organization  of  the  Third— The 
Dilemma — Voting  to  Abandon  a  Family — The  Fatal  Ayes — John  Stark's 
Bravery — Carrying  the  Starved  Children — A  Plea  for  the  Relief  Party. 

s 

j^— ROSTER  and  Eddy,  it  will  be  remembered,  were  of  the 
fifteen  who  composed  the  "Forlorn  Hope."  Foster 
/■^  was  a  man  of  strong,  generous  impulses,  and  great 
determination.  His  boy  was  at  Donner  Lake,  and 
his  wife's  mother  and  brother.  He  hardly  took  time 
to  rest  and  recruit  his  wasted  strength  before  he  began  or- 
ganizing a  party  to  go  to  their  rescue.  His  efforts  were 
ably  seconded  by  W.  H.  Eddy,  whose  wife  and  daughter  had 
perished,  but  whose  boy  was  still  alive  at  the  cabins. 

California  was  thoroughly  aroused  over  tidings  which  had 
come  from  the  mountains.  It  was  difficult  to  get  volunteers 
to  undertake  the  journey  over  the  Sierra,  but  horses,  mules, 
provisions,  and  good  wages  were  allowed  all  who  would  ven- 
ture the  perilous  trip.  The  trouble  with  Mexico  had  caused 
many  of  the  able-bodied  citizens  of  California  to  enlist  in  the 
service.  Hence  it  was  that  it  was  so  difficult  to  organize  re- 
lief parties. 


192  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER    PARTY. 

The  following  extracts  are  made  from  the  CaUfornia  Star, 
a  newspaper  published  at  "  Yerba  Buena,"  as  San  Francisco 
was  then  called.  They  do  justice  to  the  sentiment  of  the 
people  of  California,  and  indicate  something  of  the  willing- 
ness of  the  pioneers  to  aid  the  Donner  Party.  From  the 
Star  of  January  16,  1847,  is  taken  the  following  article,  which 
appeared  as  an  editorial: 

"Emigrants  on  the  Mountains. 
"  It  is  probably  not  generally  known  to  the  people  that 
there  is  now  in  the  California  mountains,  in  a  most  dis- 
tressing situation,  a  party  of  emigrants  from  the  United 
States,  who  were  prevented  from  crossing  the  mountains  by 
an  early,  heavy  fall  of  snow.  The  party  consists  of  about 
sixty  persons — men,  women,  and  children.  They  were  al- 
most entirely  out  of  provisions  when  they  reached  the  foot 
of  the  mountains,  and  but  for  the  timely  succor  afforded 
them  by  Capt.  J.  A.  Sutter,  one  of  the  most  humane  and 
liberal  men  in  California,  they  must  have  all  perished  in  a 
few  days.  Capt.  Sutter,  as  soon  as  he  ascertained  their  sit- 
uation, sent  five  mules  loaded  with  provisions  to  them.  A 
second  party  was  dispatched  with  provisions  for  them,  but 
they  found  the  mountains  impassable  in  consequence  of  the 
snow.  We  hope  that  our  citizens  will  do  something  for  the 
relief  of  these  unfortunate  people." 

From  the  same  source,  under  date  of  February  6,  1847,  's 
taken  the  following: 

"  Public   Meeting. 

"  It  will  be  recollected  that  in  a  previous  number  of  our 
paper,  we  called  the  attention  of  our  citizens  to  the  situation 
of  a  company  of  unfortunate  emigrants  now  in  the  California 
mountains.  For  the  purpose  of  making  their  situation  more 
fully  known  to  the  people,   and  of  adopting    measures  for 


SUBSCRIPTIONS  FOR  THE  CONNER  PARTY.         1 93 

their  relief,  a  public  meeting  was  called  by  the  Honorable 
Washington  A.  Bartlett,  alcalde  of  the  town,  on  Wednesday 
evening  last.  The  citizens  generally  attended,  and  in  a  very 
short  time  the  sum  of  $800  was  subscribed  to  purchase  pro- 
visions, clothing,  horses,  and  mules  to  bring  the  emigrants 
in.  Committees  were  appointed  to  call  on  those  who  could 
not  attend  the  meeting,  and  there  is  no  doubt  but  that  $500 
or  5600  more  will  be  raised.  This  speaks  well  for  Yerba 
Buena." 

One  other  extract  is  quoted  from  the  Star  of  February  13, 

1847: 

"Company  Left. 

"A  company  of  twenty  men  left  here  on  Sunday  last  for. 
the  California  mountains,  with  provisions,  clothing,  etc.,  for 
the  suffering  emigrants  now  there.  The  citizens  of  this  place 
subscribed  about  5 1,500  for  their  relief,  which  was  expended 
for  such  articles  as  the  emigrants  would  be  most  likely  to 
need.  Mr.  Greenwood,  an  old  mountaineer,  went  with  the 
company  as  pilot.  If  it  is  possible  to  cross  the  mountains, 
they  will  get  to  the  emigrants  in  time  to  save  them." 

These  three  articles  may  aid  the  reader  in  better  under- 
standing what  has  heretofore  been  said  about  the  organiza- 
tion of  the  relief  parties.  It  will  be  remembered  that  James 
F.  Reed  and  William  McCutchen  first  procured  animals  and 
provisions  from  Capt.  Sutter,  attempted  to  cross  the  mount- 
ains, found  the  snow  impassable,  cached  their  provisions,  and 
returned  to  the  valleys.  Reed,  as  described  in  his  letter  to 
the  Rural  Press,  went  to  San  Jose,  Cal.,  and  thence  to  Yerba 
Buena.  McCutchen  went  to  Napa  and  Sonoma,  and  awak- 
ened such  an  interest  that  a  subscription  of  over  $500  was 
subscribed  for  the  emigrants,  besides  a  number  of  horses  and 
mules.     Lieut.  W.  L.  Maury  and  M.  G.  Vallejo  headed  this 


194  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   I'ARTY. 

subscription,  and  ;?500  was  promised  to  Greenwood  if  he  suc- 
ceeded in  raising  a  company,  and  in  piloting  them  over  the 
mountains.  In  order  to  get  men,  Greenwood  and  McCutchen 
went  to  Yerba  Buena,  arriving  there  almost  at  the  same  time 
with  Reed.  The  above  notices  chronicle  the  events  which 
succeeded  the  announcement  of  their  mission.  The  funds 
and  supplies  contributed  were  placed  in  charge  of  Lieut. 
Woodworth.  This  party  set  out  immediately,  and  their 
journey  has  been  described.  They  form  the  second  relief 
party,  because  immediately  upon  the  arrival  of  the  seven 
who  survived  of  the  "  Forlorn  Hope,"  Capt.  Tucker's  party 
had  been  organized  at  Johnson's  and  Sutter's,  and  had 
reached  Donner  Lake  first. 

When  Foster  and  Eddy  attempted  to  form  a  relief  party, 
they  found  the  same  difficulty  in  securing  volunteers  which 
others  had  encountered.  It  was  such  a  terrible  undertaking, 
that  no  man  cared  to  risk  his  life  in  the  expedition. 

Captain  J.  B.  Hull,  of  the  United  States  navy,  and  Com- 
mander of  the  Northern  District  of  California,  furnished 
Foster  and  Eddy  with  horses  and  provisions.  Setting  out 
from  Johnson's  ranch,  they  arrived  at  Woodworth's  camp  in 
the  afternoon.  During  that  very  night  two  of  Reed's  men 
came  to  the  camp,  and  brought  news  that  Reed  and  a  por- 
tion of  his  party  were  a  short  distance  back  in  the  mount- 
ains. When  Reed  and  his  companions  were  brought  into 
camp,  and  it  was  ascertained  that  fourteen  people  had  been 
left  in  the  snow,  without  food,  the  third  relief  party  was  at 
once  organized.  The  great  danger  and  suffering  endured  by 
those  who  had  composed  the  first  and  second  relief  parties, 
prevented  men  from  volunteering.  On  this  account  greater 
honor  is  due  those  who  determined  to  peril  their  lives  to  save 
the  emigrants.  Hiram  Miller,  although  weak  and  exhausted 
with  the  fatigues  and  starvation  he  had  just  undergone  in  the 


VOTING   TO    ABANDON    A    FAMILY.  1 95 

second  relief  party,  joined  Messrs.  Foster  and  Eddy.  These 
three,  with  Wm.  Thompson,  John  Stark,  Howard  Oakley, 
and  Charles  Stone,  set  out  from  Woodworth's  camp  the  next 
morning  after  Reed's  arrival.  It  was  agreed  that  Stark,  Oak- 
ley, and  Stone  were  to  remain  with  the  sufferers  at  Starved 
Camp,  supply  them  with  food,  and  conduct  them  to  Wood- 
worth's  camp.  Foster,  Eddy,  Thompson,  and  Miller  were  to 
press  forward  to  the  relief  of  those  at  Donner  Lake.  The 
three  men,  therefore,  whose  voices  reached  Mrs.  Breen,  were 
Stark,  Oakley,  and  Stone. 

When  these  members  of  the  third  relief  party  reached  the 
deep,  well-like  cavity  in  which  were  the  seven  Breens,  the 
three  Graves  children,  and  Mary  Donner,  a  serious  question 
arose.  None  of  the  eleven,  except  Mrs.  Breen  and  John 
Breen,  were  able  to  walk.  A  storm  appeared  to  be  gather- 
ing upon  the  mountains,  and  the  supply  of  provisions  was 
very  limited.  The  lonely  situation,  the  weird,  desolate  sur- 
roundings, the  appalling  scenes  at  the  camp,  and  above  all, 
the  danger  of  being  overtaken  by  a  snow-storm,  filled  the 
minds  of  Oakley  and  Stone  with  terror.  When  it  was  found 
that  nine  out  of  the  eleven  people  must  be  carried  over  the 
snow,  it  is  hardly  to  be  wondered  at  that  a  proposition  was 
made  to  leave  a  portion  of  the  sufferers.  It  was  proposed  to 
take  the  three  Graves  children  and  Mary  Donner.  These 
four  children  would  be  quite  a  sufficient  burden  for  the  three 
men,  considering  the  snow  over  which  they  must  travel.  The 
Breens,  or  at  least  such  of  them  as  could  not  walk,  were  to 
be  abandoned.  This  was  equivalent  to  leaving  the  father, 
mother,  and  five  children,  because  the  mother  would  not 
abandon  any  member  of  her  family,  and  John,  who  alone 
could  travel,  was  in  a  semi-lifeless  condition.  The  members 
of  the  third  relief  party  are  said  to  have  taken  a  vote  upon 
the  question.     This  scene  is  described  in  the  manuscript  ol 


196  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

Hon.  James  F.  Breen:  "Those  who  were  in  favor  of  return- 
ing to  the  settlements,  and  leaving  the  Breens  for  a  future  re- 
lief party  (which,  under  the  circumstances,  was  equivalent  to 
the  death  penalty),  were  to  answer  'aye.'  The  question  was 
put  to  each  man  by  name,  and  as  the  names  were  called,  the 
dreadful  'aye'  responded.  John  Stark's  name  was  the  last 
one  called,  because  he  had,"  during  the  discussion  of  the  ques- 
tion, strongly  opposed  the  proposition  for  abandonment,  and 
it  was  naturally  supposed  that  when  he  found  himself  in  so 
hopeless  a  minority  he  would  surrender.  When  his  name 
was  called,  he  made  no  answer  until  some  one  said  to  him : 
'  Stark,  won't  you  vote?  '  Stark,  during  all  this  proceeding  of 
calling  the  roll,  had  stood  apart  from  his  companions  with 
bowed  head  and  folded  arms.  When  he  was  thus  directly 
appealed  to,  he  answered  quickly  and  decidedly:  "  No,  gentle- 
men, I  will  not  abandon  these  people.  I  am  here  on  a  mis- 
sion of  mercy,  and  I  will  not  half  do  the  work.  You  can  all 
go  if  you  want  to,  but  I  shall  stay  by  these  people  while  they 
and  I  live.'" 

It  was  nobly  said.  If  the  Breens  had  been  left  at  Starved 
Camp,  even  until  the  return  of  Foster,  Eddy,  Miller,  and 
Thompson  from  the  lake,  none  would  have  ever  reached  the 
settlements.  In  continuation  of  the  above  narration,  the  fol- 
lowing is  taken  from  the  manuscript  of  John  Breen:  "  Stark 
was  finally  left  alone.  To  his  great  bodily  strength,  and  un- 
excelled courage,  myself  and  others  owe  our  lives.  There 
was  probably  no  other  man  in  California  at  that  time,  who 
had  the  intelligence,  determination,  and  what  was  absolutely 
necessary  in  that  emergency,  the  immense  physical  powers 
of  John  Stark.  He  was  as  strong  as  two  ordinary  men.  On 
his  broad  shoulders,  he  carried  the  provisions,  most  of  the 
blankets,  and  most  of  the  time  some  of  the  weaker  children. 
In  regard  to   this,  he  would  laughingly  say  that  he  could 


CARRYING    THE   STARVED    CHILDREN.  I97 

carry  them  all,  if  there  was  room  on  his  back,  because  they 
were  so  hght  from  starvation." 

By  every  means  in  his  power,  Stark  would  cheer  and  en- 
courage the  poor  sufferers.  Frequently  he  would  carry  one 
or  two  ahead  a  little  way,  put  them  down,  and  return  for  the 
others.  James  F.  Breen  says:  "I  distinctly  remember  that 
myself  .ind  Jonathan  Graves  were  both  carried  by  Stark,  on 
his  back,  the  greater  part  of  the  journey."  Others  speak 
similarly. 

Regarding  this  brave  man,  Dr.  J.  C.  Leonard  has  con- 
tributed much  valuable  information,  from  which  is  selected 
the  following: 

"John  Stark  was  born  in  1817,  in  Wayne  County,  Indiana. 
His  father,  William  Stark,  came  from  Virginia,  and  was  one 
of  the  first  settlers  of  Kentucky,  arriving  there  about  the 
same  time  as  Daniel  Boone.  He  married  a  cousin  of  Daniel 
Boone,  and  they  had  a  family  of  eight  children.  T.  J.  Stark, 
the  oldest  son,  now  lives  at  French  Corral,  Nevada  County, 
California.  John  Stark,  the  younger  brother,  started  from 
Monmouth  County,  lUinois,  in  the  spring  of  1846,  but  taking 
the  Fort  Hall  road,  reached  California  in  safety.  He  was  a 
powerfully  built  man,  weighing  two  hundred  and  twenty 
pounds.  He  was  sheriff  of  Napa  County  for  six  years,  and 
in  1852  represented  that  county  in  the  State  Legislature.  He 
died  near  Calistoga,  in  1875,  of  heart  disease.  His  death 
was  instantaneous,  and  occurred  while  pitching  hay  from  a 
wagon.  He  was  the  father  of  eleven  children,  six  of  whom, 
tvith  his  wife,  are  now  living." 

Each  one  of  the  persons  who  were  taken  from  Starved  Camp 
by  this  man  and  his  two  companions,  reached  Sutter's  Fort 
in  safety.  James  F.  Breen  had  his  feet  badly  frozen,  and 
afterwards  burned  while  at  the  camp.  No  one  had  any  hope 
that  they  could  be  saved,  and  when  the  party  reached  the  fort. 


iqS  history  of  the  donner  party. 

a  doctor  was  sought  to  amputate  them.  None  could  be  found, 
and  kind  nature  effected  a  cure  which  a  physician  would  have 
pronounced  impossible. 

In  concluding  this  chapter,  it  is  quite  appropriate  to  quote 
the  following,  written  by  J.  F.  Breen :  "  No  one  can  attach 
blame  to  those  who  voted  to  leave  part  of  the  emigrants.  It 
was  a  desperate  case.  Their  idea  was  to  save  as  many  as 
possible,  and  they  honestly  believed  that  by  attempting  to 
save  all,  all  would  be  lost.  But  this  consideration — and  the 
further  one  that  Stark  was  an  entire  stranger  to  every  one  in 
the  camps,  not  bound  to  them  by  any  tie  of  blood  or  kin- 
dred, nor  having  any  hope  of  reward,  except  the  grand  con- 
sciousness of  doing  a  noble  act — makes  his  conduct  shine 
more  lustrously  in  the  eyes  of  every  person  who  admires 
nature's  true  and  only  nobility." 


Chapter  XVIII. 


■J~m^r'*v*<ifi^ 


Arrival  of  the  Third  Relief— The  Living  and  the  Dead— Captain  George  Don- 
ner  Dying — Mrs.  Murphy's  Words — Foster  and  Eddy  at  the  Lake — Tamsen 
Donner  and  her  Children — A  Fearful  Struggle — The  Husband's  Wishes — 
Walking  Fourteen  Miles — Wifely  Devotion — Choosing  Death — The  Night 
Journey — An  Unparalleled  Ordeal  —  An  Honored  Name — Three  Little 
Waifs — "And  Our  Parents  are  Dead." 

^DDY,  Foster,  Thompson,  and  Miller  passed  Nicholas 
g  Clark  and  John  Baptiste  near  the  head  of  Donner 
Lake.  These  starving  fugitives  had  journeyed  thus 
far  in  their  desperate  effort  to  cross  the  mountains. 
Of  all  those  encamped  at  Alder  Creek  the  sole  sur- 
vivors now  were  George  Donner,  the  captain  of  the  Donner 
Party,  and  his  faithful  wife,  Tamsen  Donner.  Under  the 
snow-drifts  which  covered  the  valley,  lay  Jacob  'Donner, 
Elizabeth  Donner,  Lewis  Donner,  Samuel  Donner,  Samuel 
Shoemaker,  Joseph  Rhinehart,  and  James  Smith.  One  more 
was  soon  to  be  added  to  the  number.  It  was  the  man  whose 
name  had  been  given  to  the  company;  the  only  one  who 
died  of  a  lingering,  painful  disease.  The  injury  of  George 
Donner's  hand  had  grown  into  a  feverish,  virulent  ulceration, 
which  must  have  partaken  of  the  nature  of  erysipelas.  At 
all  events,  mortification  had  set  in,  and  when  the  third  relief 


200  HISTORY   OF   THE   CONNER    PARTY. 

party  arrived  it  had  reached  his  shoulder.  In  a  few  hours  at 
most  he  must  die. 

Foster's  party  found  that  much  suffering  had  occurred  at 
Donner  Lake  during  the  tearful  days  which  elapsed  between 
Reed's  departure  and  their  own  arrival.  Mrs.  Lavina  Mur- 
phy had  charge  of  her  son,  Simon  Murphy,  her  grandchild, 
George  Foster,  of  the  child  James  Eddy,  and  of  the  three 
little  Donner  girls,  Frances,  Georgia,  and  Eliza.  All  dwelt 
in  the  same  cabin,  and  with  them  was  Lewis  Keseberg.  Fos- 
ter and  Eddy  found  all  there,  save  their  own  children.  They 
were  both  dead.  Keseberg  has  generally  been  accused  of  the 
murder  of  little  George  Foster.  Except  Mrs.  Murphy,  the 
oldest  of  those  who  were  with  Keseberg  was  only  nine  years 
of  age.  All  that  the  children  know  is  that  Keseberg  took 
the  child  to  bed  with  him  one  night,  and  that  it  was  dead 
next  morning.  One  of  the  little  ones  who  survived — one 
whose  memory  has  proven  exceedingly  truthful  upon  all 
points  wherein  her  evidence  could  be  possibly  substantiated 
— and  who  is  now  Mrs.  Georgia  A.  Babcock — gives  the  mild- 
est version  of  this  sad  affair  which  has  ever  appeared  in 
print.  She  denies  the  story,  so  often  reiterated,  that  Kese- 
berg took  the  child  to  bed  with  him  and  ate  it  up  before 
morning;  but  writes  the  following:  "  In  the  morning  the 
child  was  dead.  Mrs.  Murphy  took  it,  sat  down  near  the 
bed  wh^re  my  sister  and  myself  were  lying,  laid  the  little  one 
on  her  lap,  and  made  remarks  to  other  persons,  accusing 
Keseberg  of  killing  it.  After  a  while  he  came,  took  it  from 
her,  and  hung  it  up  in  sight,  inside  the  cabin,  on  the  wall." 

Foster,  Eddy,  Thompson,  and  Miller  remained  but  a  little 
while  at  the  mountain  camp.  During  this  time  Mr.  Foster 
had  no  opportunity  to  talk  with  Mrs.  Murphy  save  in  Kese- 
berg's  presence.  Afterwards,  when  the  children  told  him  of 
the  suspicions  expressed  in  their  presence  by  Mrs.  Murphy, 


THE   LIVING    AND   THE   DEAD.  20I 

Foster  deeply  regretted  that  he  had  not  sought  a  private  in- 
terview with  her,  for  the  purpose  of  learning  the  reasons  for 
her  belief. 

In  the  morning  the  relief  party  was  to  start  back  to  the 
settlements.  Eddy  was  to  carry  Georgia  Donner;  Thomp- 
son, Frances  Donner;  Miller,  Eliza  Donner;  and  Foster  was 
to  carry  Simon  Murphy.  John  Baptiste  and  Nicholas  Clark 
remained  at  the  head  of  Donner  Lake,  and  were  to  accom- 
pany the  party.  This  left  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Donner  at  Alder 
Creek,  and  Keseberg  and  Mrs.  Murphy  at  the  cabins.  Mrs. 
Murphy  had  cared  for  her  children  and  her  grandchildren, 
and  ministered  to  the  wants  of  those  around  her,  until  she 
was  sick,  exhausted,  and  utterly  helpless.  She  could  not 
walk.  She  could  scarcely  rise  from  her  bed.  With  all  the 
tenderness  of  a  son,  Mr.  Foster  gave  her  such  provisions  as 
he  could  leave,  procured  her  wood,  and  did  whatever  he  was 
able  to  do  to  render  her  comfortable.  He  also  promised  to 
return  speedily,  and  with  such  assistance  that  he  could  carry 
her  over  the  summits  to  her  children. 

The  very  afternoon  that  the  third  relief  party  reached  the 
cabins,  Simon  Murphy  discovered  a  woman  wandering  about 
in  the  snow  as  if  lost.  It  proved  to  be  Mrs.  Tamsen  Donner. 
She  had  wearily  traveled  over  the  deep  snows  from  Alder 
Creek,  as  narrated  in  a  previous  chapter,  to  see  her  children, 
and,  if  necessary,  to  protect  their  lives.  Oh!  the  joy  and 
the  pain  of  the  meeting  of  those  little  ones  and  their  mother. 
As  they  wound  their  arms  about  her  neck,  kissed  her  lips, 
laughed  in  her  eyes,  and  twined  their  fingers  in  her  hair, 
what  a  struggle  must  have  been  taking  place  in  her  soul.  As 
the  pleading,  upturned  faces  of  her  babies  begged  her  not  to 
leave  them,  her  very  heart-strings  must  have  been  rent  with 
a"-ony.  Well  may  the  voice  quiver  or  the  hand  tremble  that 
attempts  to  portray  the  anguish  of  this  mother  during  that 


202  HISTORY   OF  THE   DONNER   PART\'. 

farewell  interview.  From  the  very  first  moment,  her  resolu- 
tion to  return  to  her  husband  remained  unshaken.  The 
members  of  the  reHef  party  entreated  her  to  go  with  her 
children  and  save  her  own  life.  They  urged  that  there  could 
only  be  a  few  hours  of  life  left  in  George  Donner.  This  was 
so  true  that  she  once  ventured  the  request  that  they  remain 
until  she  could  return  to  Alder  Creek,  and  see  if  he  were  yet 
alive.  The  gathering  storm-clouds,  which  had  hovered  over 
the  summit  for  days,  compelled  them  to  refuse  this  request. 
An  hour's  delay  might  be  fatal  to  all. 

George  Donner  knew  that  he  was  dying,  and  had  fre- 
quently urged  his  wife  to  leave  him,  cross  the  mountains, 
and  take  care  of  her  children.  As  she  held  her  darlings  in 
her  arms,  it  required  no  prophetic  vision  to  disclose  pictures 
of  sadness,  of  lonely  childhood,  of  longing  girlhood,  of  pil- 
lows wet  with  tears,  if  these  three  little  waifs  were  left  to 
wander  friendless  in  California.  She  never  expressed  a  belief 
that  she  would  see  that  land  of  promise  beyond  the  Sierra. 
Often  had  her  calm,  earnest  voice  told  them  of  the  future 
which  awaited  them,  and  so  far  as  possible  had  she  prepared 
them  to  meet  thatf  uture  without  the  counsel  or  sympathy  of 
father  or  mother. 

The  night-shadows,  creeping  through  the  shivering  pines, 
warned  her  of  the  long,  dreary  way  over  which  her  tired  feet 
must  pass  ere  she  reached  her  dying  husband's  side.  She  is 
said  to  have  appeared  strangely  composed.  The  struggle 
was  silent.  The  poor,  bleeding  heart  brought  not  a  single 
moan  to  the  lips.  It  was  a  choice  between  life,  hope,  and 
her  clinging  babes,  or  a  lonely  vigil  by  a  dying  husband,  and 
an  unknown,  shroudless  death  in  the  wintry  mountains.  Her 
husband  was  sixty-three;  he  was  well  stricken  in  years,  and 
his  life  was  fast  ebbing  away.  If  she  returned  through  the 
frosty  night-winds,  over  the  crisp,  freezing  snow,  she  would 


\V.  C.  GRAVES. 

1879 


AN  HONORED  NAME.  203 

travel  fourteen  miles  that  day.  The  strong,  healthy  men 
comp'"'---^«  the  relief  parties  frequently  could  travel  but  five 
or  six  miles  in  a  day.  If  she  made  the  journey,  and  found 
her  husband  was  dead,  she  could  have  no  hope  of  returning 
on  the  morrow.  She  had  suffered  too  long  from  hunger  and 
privation  to  hope  to  be  able  to  return  and  overtake  the  relief 
party.  It  was  certain  life  or  certain  death.  On  the  side  of 
the  former  was  maternal  love;  on  the  side  of  the  latter,  wifely 
devotion.  The  whole  wide  range  of  history  can  not  produce 
a  parallel  example  of  adherence  to  duty,  and  to  the  dictates 
of  conjugal  fidelity.  With  quick,  convulsive  pressure  of  her 
httle  ones  to  her  heart;  with  a  hasty,  soul-throbbing  kiss 
upon  the  lips  of  each;  with  a  prayer  that  was  stifled  with  a 
sob  of  agony,  Tamsen  Donner  hurried  away  to  her  husband. 
Through  the  gathering  darkness,  past  th«  shadowy  sentinels 
of  the  forest,  they  watched  with  tearful  eyes  her  retreating 
form.  As  if  she  dared  not  trust  another  sight  of  the  little 
faces — as  if  to  escape  the  pitiful  wail  of  her  darlings — she  ran 
straight  forward  until  out  of  sight  and  hearing.  She  never 
once  looked  back. 

There  are  mental  struggles  which  so  absorb  the  being  and 
soul  that  physical  terrors  or  tortures  are  unnoticed.  Tamsen 
Donner's  mind  was  passing  through  such  an  ordeal.  The 
fires  of  Moloch,  the  dreadful  suttee,  were  sacrifices  which  long 
religious  education  sanctioned,  and  in  which  the  devotees 
perished  amidst  the  plaudits  of  admiring  multitudes.  This 
woman  had  chosen  a  death  of  solitude,  of  hunger,  of  bitter 
cold,  of  pain-racked  exhaustion,  and  was  actuated  by  only 
the  pure  principles  of  wifely  love.  Already  the  death-damp 
was  gathering  on  George  Donner's  brow.  At  the  utmost, 
she  could  hope  to  do  no  more  than  smooth  the  pillow  of  the 
dying,  tenderly  clasp  the  fast-chilling  hand,  press  farewell 
kisses  upon  the  whitening  lips,  and  finally  close  the  dear, 


204  HISTORY  OF  THE  DONNER  PARTY, 

tired  eyes.  For  this,  only  this,  she  was  yielding  life,  the 
world,  and  her  darling  babes.  Fitted  by  culture  and  refine- 
ment to  be  an  ornament  to  society,  qualified  by  education  to 
rear  her  daughters  to  lives  of  honor  and  usefulness,  how  it 
must  have  wrung  her  heart  to  allow  her  little  ones  to  go  un- 
protected into  a  wilderness  of  strangers.  But  she  could  not 
leave  her  husband  to  die  alone.  Rather  solitude,  better  death, 
than  desert  the  father  of  her  children.  O,  Land  of  the  Sun- 
set! let  the  memory  of  this  wife's  devotion  be  ever  enshrined 
in  the  hearts  of  your  faithful  daughters!  In  tablets  thus  pure, 
engrave  the  name  of  Tamsen  Donner. 


When  the  June  sunshine  gladdened  the  Sacramento  Val- 
ley, three  little  barefooted  girls  walked  here  and  there  among 
the  houses  and  tents  of  Sutter's  Fort.  They  were  scantily 
clothed,  and  one  carried  a  thin  blanket.  At  night  they  said 
their  prayers,  lay  down  in  whatever  tent  they  happened  to 
be,  and,  folding  the  blanket  about  them,  fell  asleep  in  each 
other's  arms.  When  they  were  hungry,  they  asked  food  of 
whomsoever  they  met.  If  any  one  inquired  who  they  were, 
they  answered  as  their  mother  had  taught  them:  "We  are 
the  children  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  George  Donner."  But  they 
added  something  they  had  learned  since.  It  was,  "And  our 
parents  are  dead." 


Chapter  XIX. 


Fake  Ideas  about  the  Donner  Party — Accused  of  Six  Murders — Interviews 
with  Lewis  Keseberg — His  Statement — An  Educated  German — A  Predes- 
tined Fate — Keseberg's  Lameness  —  Slanderous  Reports  —  Covered  with 
Snow — "Loathsome,  Insipid,  and  Disgusting" — Longings  toward  Suicide 
— Tamsen  Donner's  Death — Going  to  Get  the  Treasure — Suspended  over  a 
Hidden  Stream — "Where  is  Donner's   Money?" — Extorting  a  Confession. 


^ESEBERG  is  one  of  the  leading  characters  in  the 
Donner  Party.  Usually,  his  part  in  the  tragedy  has 
been  considered  the  entire  story.  Comparatively 
few  people  have  understood  that  any  except  this 
one  man  ate  human  flesh,  or  was  a  witness  of  any 
scene  of  horror.  He  has  been  loathed,  execrated,  abhorred 
as  a  cannibal,  a  murderer,  and  a  heartless  fiend.  In  the 
various  published  sketches  which  have  from  time  to  time 
been  given  to  the  world,  Lewis  Keseberg  has  been  charged 
with  no  less  than  six  murders.  His  cannibalism  has  been 
denounced  as  arising  from  choice,  as  growing  out  of  a  de- 
praved and  perverted  appetite,  instead  of  being  the  result  of 
necessity.  On  the  fourth  of  April,  1879,  ^^'s  strange  man 
granted  an  interview  to  the  author,  and  in  this  and  succeed- 
ing interviews  he  reluctantly  made  a  statement  which  was 
reduced  to  writing.     "  What  is  the  use,"  he  would  urge,  "  of 


206  HISTORY   OF  THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

my  making  a  statement?  People  incline  to  believe  the  most 
horrible  reports  concerning  a  man,  and  they  will  not  credit 
what  I  say  in  my  own  defense.  My  conscience  is  clear.  I 
am  an  old  man,  and  am  calmly  awaiting  my  death.  God  is 
my  judge,  and  it  long  ago  ceased  to  trouble  me  that  people 
shunned  and  slandered  me." 

Keseberg  is  six  feet  in  height,  is  well  proportioned,  and 
weighs  from  one  hundred  and  seventy-five  to  one  hundred 
and  eighty  pounds.  He  is  active,  vigorous,  and  of  an  erect, 
manly  carriage,  despite  his  years  and  his  many  afflictions. 
He  has  clear  blue  eyes,  regular  features,  light  hair  and  beard, 
a  distinct,  rapid  mode  of  enunciation,  a  loud  voice,  and  a 
somewhat  excited  manner  of  speech.  In  conversing  he 
looks  one  squarely  and  steadily  in  the  eye,  and  appears  like 
an  honest,  intelligent  German.  He  speaks  and  writes  Ger- 
man, French,  Spanish,  and  English,  and  his  selection  of 
words  proves  him  a  scholar.  His  face  generally  wears  a 
determined,  almost  fierce  expression,  but  one  is  impressed 
with  the  thought  that  this  appearance  is  caused  by  his  habit- 
ually standing  on  the  defensive  as  against  his  fellow-men. 
Since  he  has  never  before  had  an  opportunity  of  speaking  in 
his  own  defense,  it  is  perhaps  fitting  that  his  statement 
should  be  given  in  his  own  language : 

"  My  name  is  Lewis  Keseberg.  I  was  born  in  the  city 
of  Berleburg,  Province  of  Westphalia,  in  the  Kingdom  of 
Prussia,  on  the  twenty-second  of  May,  1814.  I  am  there- 
fore alnjost  sixty-three  years  of  age.  I  was  married  June  22, 
1842,  came  to  the  United  States  May  22,  1844,  and  emigrated 
to  California  in  1846  with  the  Donner  Party.  I  never  have 
made  a  statement  concerning  my  connection  with  that  Party 
to  any  one  connected  with  the  press.  It  is  with  the  utmost 
horror  that  I  revert  to  the  scenes  of  suffering  and  unutterable 
misery   endured    during   that  journe\-.     I    have    always   en- 


LEWIS   KESEBERG  S    STATEMENT.  20/ 

deavored  to  put  away  from  me  all  thoughts  or  recollections 
of  those  terrible  events.  Time  is  the  best  physician,  and 
would,  I  trusted,  heal  the  wounds  produced  by  those  days  of 
torture;  yet  my  mind  to-day  recoils  with  undiminished 
horror  as  I  endeavor  to  speak  of  this  dreadful  subject. 
Heretofore  I  have  never  attempted  to  refute  the  villainous 
slanders  which  have  been  circulated  and  published  about  me. 
I  feel  it  my  duty  to  make  this  statement,  however,  because  I 
am  convinced  of  your  willingness  to  do  justice  to  all  who 
were  concerned  in  that  dreadful  affair,  and  heretofore  I  have 
been  treated  with  gross  injustice. 

"  If  I  believe  in  God  Almighty  having  anything  to  do 
with  the  affairs  of  men,  I  believe  that  the  misfortune  which 
overtook  the  Donner  Party,  and  the  terrible  part  I  was  com- 
pelled to  take  in  the  great  tragedy,  were  predestined.  On 
the  Hastings  Cut-off  we  were  twenty-eight  days  in  going 
twenty-one  miles.  Difficulty  and  disaster  hovered  about  us 
from  the  time  we  entered  upon  this  cut-off. 

"One  day,  while  we  were  traveling  on  Goose  Creek,  we 
saw  so  many  wild  geese  that  I  took  my  shotgun  and  went 
hunting.  Ordinarily  I  am  not  superstitious,  but  on  this  morn- 
ing I  felt  an  overwhelming  sense  of  impending  calamity.  I 
mentioned  my  premonitions  to  Mrs.  Murphy  before  starting 
on  the  hunt.  Becoming  excited  with  the  sport,  and  eagerly 
watching  the  game,  I  stepped  down  a  steep  bank.  Some 
willows  had  been  burned  off,  and  the  short,  sharp  stubs  were 
sticking  up  just  where  I  stepped.  I  had  on  buckskin  moc^ 
casins,  and  one  of  these  stubs  ran  into  the  ball  of  my  foot, 
between  the  bones  and  the  toes.  From  this  time,  until  we  ar- 
rived at  Donner  Lake,  I  was  unable  to  walk,  or  even  to  put 
my  foot  to  the  ground.  The  foot  became  greatly  swollen 
and  inflamed,  and  was  exceedingly  painful.  One  day,  at 
Donner  Lake,  one  of  my  companions,  at  my  earnest  request, 


208  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   PARTY, 

lanced  my  foot  on  the  top.  It  discharged  freely,  and  some 
days  afterwards,  in  washing  it,  I  found  a  hard  substance  pro- 
truding from  the  wound,  and  obtaining  a  pair  of  forceps,  suc- 
ceeded in  extracting  a  piece  of  the  willow  stub,  one  and  a  half 
inches  in  length.  It  had  literally  worked  up  through  my 
foot.  I  mention  this  particularly,  because  I  have  been  fre- 
quently accused  of  remaining  at  the  Donner  cabins  from 
selfish  or  sinister  motives,  when  in  fact  I  was  utterly  unable 
to  join  the  relief  parties." 

It  is  proper  to  mention,  in  corroboration  of  Keseberg's 
statement  regarding  his  lameness,  that  several  of  the  sur- 
vivors remembered,  and  had  related  the  circumstance  prior 
to  the  interview.  It  is  a  well-authenticated  fact  that  he  was 
very  lame,  and  could  not  walk,  yet,  as  a  specimen  of  the 
abuse  which  has  been  heaped  upon  the  man,  a  quotation  is 
introduced  from  Thornton's  "Oregon  and  California."  In 
speaking  of  the  departure  of  Foster  and  Eddy,  Thornton 
says:  "There  were  in  camp  Mrs.  Murphy,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
George  Donner,  and  Keseberg — the  latter,  it  was  believed, 
having  far  more  strength  to  travel  than  others  who  had  ar- 
rived in  the  settlements.  But  he  would  not  travel,  for  the 
reason,  as  was  suspected,  that  he  wished  to  remain  behind 
for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  the  property  and  money  of  the 
dead."     Keseberg's  statement  continues: 

"  When  we  reached  the  lake,  we  lost  our  road,  and  owing 
to  the  depth  of  the  snow  on  the  mountains,  were  compelled 
to  abandon  our  wagons,  and  pack  our  goods  upon  oxen. 
The  cattle,  unused  to  such  burdens,  caused  great  delay  by 
'  bucking'  and  wallowing  in  the  snow.  There  was  also  much 
confusion  as  to  what  articles  should  be  taken  and  what 
abandoned.  One  wanted  a  box  of  tobacco  carried  along; 
another,  a  bale  of  calico,  and  some  one  thing  and  some  an- 
other.    But  for  this  delay  we  would  have  passed  the  summit 


COVERED    WITH    SNOW.  209 

and  pressed  forward  to  California.  Owing  to  my  lameness, 
I  was  placed  on  horseback,  and  my  foot  was  tied  up  to  the 
saddle  in  a  sort  of  sling.  Near  evening  we  were  close  to  the 
top  of  the  dividing  ridge.  It  was  cold  and  chilly,  and  every- 
body was  tired  with  the  severe  exertions  of  the  day.  Some 
of  the  emigrants  sat  down  to  rest,  and  declared  they  could 
go  no  further.  I  begged  them  for  God's  sake  to  get  over  the 
ridge  before  halting.  Some  one,  however,  set  fire  to  a  pitchy 
pine  tree,  and  the  flames  soon  ascended  to  its  topmost 
branches.  The  women  and  children  gathered  about  this  fire 
to  warm  themselves.  Meantime  the  oxen  were  rubbing  off 
their  packs  against  the  trees.  The  weather  looked  very 
threatening,  and  I  exhorted  them  to  go  on  until  the  summit 
was  reached.  I  foresaw  the  danger  plainly  and  unmistakably. 
Only  the  strongest  men,  however,  could  go  ahead  and  break 
the  road,  and  it  would  have  taken  a  determined  man  to  in- 
duce the  party  to  leave  the  fire.  Had  I  been  well,  and  been 
able  to  push  ahead  over  the  ridge,  some,  if  not  all,  would 
have  followed.  As  it  was,  all  lay  down  on  the  snow,  and 
from  exhaustion  were  soon  asleep.  In  the  night,  I  felt  some- 
thing impeding  my  breath.  A  heavy  weight  seemed  to  be 
resting  upon  me.  Springing  up  to  a  sitting  posture,  I  found 
myself  covered  with  freshly-fallen  snow.  The  camp,  the 
cattle,  my  companions,  had  all  disappeared.  All  I  could  see 
was  snow  everywhere.  I  shouted  at  the  top  of  my  voice. 
Suddenly,  here  and  there,  all  about  me,  heads  popped  up 
through  the  snow.  The  scene  was  not  unlike  what  one 
might  imagine  at  the  resurrection,  when  people  rise  up  out 
of  the  earth.  The  terror  amounted  to  a  panic.  The  mules 
were  lost,  the  cattle  strayed  away,  and  our  further  progress 
rendered  impossible.  The  rest  you  probably  know.  We  re- 
turned to  the  lake,  and  prepared,  as  best  we  could,  for  the 
winter.  I  was  unable  to  build  a  cabin,  because  of  my  lame- 
14 


2IO  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

ness,  and  so  erected  a  sort  of  brush  shed  against  one  side  of 
Breen's  cabin. 

"  When  Reed's  relief  party  left  the  cabins,  Mr.  Reed  left  me 
a  half  tcacupful  of  flour,  and  about  half  a  pound  of  jerked 
beef.  It  was  all  he  could  give.  Mrs.  Murphy,  who  was  left 
with  me,  because  too  weak  and  emaciated  to  walk,  had  no 
larger  portion.  Reed  had  no  animosity  toward  me.  He 
found  me  too  weak  to  move.  He  washed  me,  combed  my 
hair,  and  treated  me  kindly.  Indeed,  he  had  no  cause  to  do 
otherwise.  Some  of  my  portion  of  the  flour  brought  by  Stan- 
ton from  Sutter's  Fort  I  gave  to  Reed's  children,  and  thus 
saved  their  lives.  When  he  left  me,  he  promised  to  return  in 
two  weeks  and  carry  me  over  the  mountains.  When  this 
party  left,  I  was  not  able  to  stand,  much  less  to  walk. 

"A  heavy  storm  came  on  in  a  few  days  after  the  last  relief 
party  left.  Mrs.  George  Donner  had  remained  with  her  sick 
husband  in  their  camp,  six  or  seven  miles  away.  Mrs.  Mur- 
phy lived  about  a  week  after  we  were  left  alone.  When  my 
provisions  gave  out,  I  remained  four  days  before  I  could  taste 
human  flesh.  There  was  no  other  resort — it  was  that  or 
death.  My  wife  and  child  had  gone  on  with  the  first  relief 
party.  I  knew  not  whether  they  were  living  or  dead.  They 
were  penniless  and  friendless  in  a  strange  land.  For  their 
sakes  I  must  live,  if  not  for  my  own.  Mrs.  Murphy  was  too 
weak  to  revive.  The  flesh  of  starved  beings  contains  little 
nutriment.  It  is  like  feeding  straw  to  horses.  I  can  not  de- 
scribe the  unutterable  repugnance  with  which  I  tasted  the  first 
mouthful  of  flesh.  There  is  an  instinct  in  our  nature  that  re- 
volts at  the  thought  of  touching,  much  less  eating,  a  corpse. 
It  makes  my  blood  curdle  to  think  of  it!  It  has  been  told 
that  I  boasted  of  my  shame — said  that  I  enjoyed  this  horrid 
food,  and  that  I  remarked  that  human  flesh  was  more  pal- 
atable than   California  beef.     This   is  a  falsehood.     It   is  a 


LONGINGS   TOWARD   SUICIDE.  211 

horrible,  revolting  falsehood.  This  food  was  never  otherwise 
than  loathsome,  insipid,  and  disgusting.  For  nearly  two 
months  I  was  alone  in  that  dismal  cabin.  No  one  knows 
what  occurred  but  myself — no  living  being  ever  before  was 
told  of  the  occurrences.  Life  was  a  burden.  The  horrors  of 
one  day  succeeded  those  of  the  preceding.  Five  of  my  com- 
panions had  died  in  my  cabin,  and  their  stark  and  ghastly 
bodies  lay  there  day  and  night,  seemingly  gazing  at  me  with 
their  glazed  and  staring  eyes.  I  was  too  weak  to  move  them 
had  I  tried.  The  relief  parties  had  not  removed  them.  These 
parties  had  been  too  hurried,  too  horror-stricken  at  the  sight, 
too  fearful  lest  an  hour's  delay  might  cause  them  to  share 
the  same  fate.  I  endured  a  thousand  deaths.  To  have  one's 
suffering  prolonged  inch  by  inch,  to  be  deserted,  forsaken, 
hopeless;  to  see  that  loathsome  food  ever  before  my  eyes, 
was  almost  too  much  for  human  endurance.  I  am  conversant 
with  four  different  languages.  I  speak  and  write  them  with 
equal  fluency ;  yet  in  all  four  I  do  not  find  words  enough  to 
express  the  horror  I  experienced  during  those  two  months, 
or  what  I  still  feel  when  memory  reverts  to  the  scene.  Sui- 
cide would  have  been  a  relief,  a  happiness,  a  godsend!  Many 
a  time  I  had  the  muzzle  of  my  pistol  in  my  mouth  and  my 
finger  on  the  trigger,  but  the  faces  of  my  helpless,  dependent 
wife  and  child  would  rise  up  before  me,  and  my  hand  would 
fall  powerless.  I  was  not  the  cause  of  my  misfortunes,  and 
God  Almighty  had  provided  only  this  one  horrible  way  for 
me  to  subsist." 

Did  you  boil  the  flesh? 

"Yes!  But  to  go  into  details — to  relate  the  minutiae — is 
too  agonizing!  1  can  not  do  it!  Imagination  can  supply 
these.  The  necessary  mutilation  of  the  bodies  of  those  who 
had  been  my  friends,  rendered  the  ghastliness  of  my  situation 
more  frightful.    When  I  could  crawl  about  and  m.y  lame  foot 


212  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER   PARTY. 

was  partially  recovered,  I  was  chopping  some  wood  one  day 
and  the  ax  glanced  and  cut  off  my  heel.  The  piece  of  flesh 
grew  back  in  time,  but  not  in  its  former  position,  and  my 
foot  is  maimed  to  this  day. 

"  A  man,  before  he  judges  me,  should  be  placed  in  a  similar 
situation ;  but  if  he  were,  it  is  a  thousand  to  one  he  would 
perish.  A  constitution  of  steel  alone  could  endure  the  depri- 
vation and  misery.  At  this  time  I  was  living  in  the  log-cabin 
with  the  fireplace.  One  night  I  was  awakened  by  a  scratch- 
ing sound  over  my  head.  I  started  up  in  terror,  and  listened 
intently  for  the  noise  to  be  repeated.  It  came  again.  It 
was  the  wolves  trying  to  get  into  the  cabin  to  eat  me  and 
the  dead  bodies. 

"At  midnight,  one  cold,  bitter  night,  Mrs.  George  Donner 
came  to  my  door.  It  was  about  two  weeks  after  Reed  had 
gone,  and  my  loneliness  was  beginning  to  be  unendurable. 
I  was  most  happy  to  hear  the  sound  of  a  human  voice.  Her 
coming  was  like  that  of  an  angel  from  heaven.  But  she 
had  not  come  to  bear  me  company.  Her  husband  had  died 
in  her  arms.  She  had  remained  by  his  side  until  death 
came,  and  then  had  laid  him  out  and  hurried  away.  He 
died  at  nightfall,  and  she  had  traveled  over  the  snow  alone 
to  my  cabin.  She  was  going,  alone,  across  the  mountains. 
She  was  going  to  start  without  food  or  guide.  She  kept 
saying,  '  My  children  !  I  must  see  my  children  !'  She  feared 
she  would  not  survive,  and  told  me  she  had  some  money  in 
her  tent.  It  was  too  heavy  for  her  to  carry.  She  said,  '  Mr. 
Keseberg,  I  confide  this  to  your  care.'  She  made  me 
promise  sacredly  that  I  would  get  the  money  and  take  it  to 
her  children  in  case  she  perished  and  I  survived.  She  de- 
clared she  would  start  over  the  mountains  in  the  morning. 
She  said,  '  I  am  bound  to  go  to  my  children.'  She  seemed 
very  cold,  and  he^   ^loibiH^  "vere  like  ice.     I  think  she  had 


GOING  TO  GET  THE  TREASURE.  213 

got  in  the  creek  in  coming.  She  said  she  was  very  hungry, 
but  refused  the  only  food  I  could  offer.  She  had  never  eaten 
the  loathsome  flesh.  She  finally  lay  down,  and  I  spread 
a  feather-bed  and  some  blankets  over  her.  In  the  morning 
she  was  dead.  I  think  the  hunger,  the  mental  suffering,  and 
the  icy  chill  of  the  preceding  night,  caused  her  death.  I 
have  often  been  accused  of  taking  her  life.  Before  my  God, 
I  swear  this  is  untrue  !  Do  you  think  a  man  would  be  such 
:  a  miscreant,  such  a  damnable  fiend,  such  a  caricature  on 
'  humanity,  as  to  kill  this  lone  woman?  There  were  plenty 
of  corpses  lying  around.  He  would  only  add  one  more 
corpse  to  the  many  ! 

"  Oh !  the  days  and  weeks  of  horror  which  I  passed  in 
that  camp !  I  had  no  hope  of  help  or  of  being  rescued, 
until  I  saw  the  green  grass  coming  up  by  the  spring  on  the 
hillside,  and  the  wild  geese  coming  to  nibble  it.  The  birds 
were  coming  back  to  their  breeding  grounds,  and  I  felt  that 
I  could  kill  them  for  food.  I  had  plenty  of  guns  and  am- 
munition in  camp.  I  also  had  plenty  of  tobacco  and  a  good 
meerschaum  pipe,  and  almost  the  only  solace  I  enjoyed  was 
smoking.  In  my  weak  condition  it  took  me  two  or  three 
hours  every  day  to  get  sufficient  wood  to  keep  my  fire  going. 
"  Some  time  after  Mrs.  Donner's  death,  I  thought  I  had 
gained  sufficient  strength  to  redeem  the  pledge  I  had  made 
her  before  her  death.  I  started  to  go  to  the  camps  at  Alder 
Creek  to  get  the  money.  I  had  a  very  difficult  journey. 
The  wagons  of  the  Donners  were  loaded  with  tobacco, 
powder,  caps,  shoes,  school-books,  and  dry-goods.  This 
stock  was  very  valuable,  and  had  it  reached  California, 
would  have  been  a  fortune  to  the  Donners.  I  searched  care- 
fully among  the  bales  and  bundles  of  goods,  and  found  five 
hundred  and  thirty-one  dollars.  Part  of  this  sum  was  silver, 
part  gold.     The  silver  I  buried  at  the  foot  of  a  pine  tree,  a 


214  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

little  way  from  the  camp.  One  of  the  lower  branches  of 
another  tree  reached  down  close  to  the  ground,  and  appeared 
to  point  to  the  spot.  I  put  the  gold  in  my  pocket,  and 
started  to  return  to  my  cabin.  I  had  spent  one  night  at  the 
Donner  tents.  On  my  return  I  became  lost.  When  it  was 
nearly  dark,  in  crossing  a  little  flat,  the  snow  suddenly  gave 
way  under  my  feet,  and  I  sank  down  almost  to  my  armpits. 
By  means  of  the  crust  on  top  of  the  snow,  I  kept  myself 
suspended  by  throwing  out  my  arms.  A  stream  of  water 
flowed  underneath  the  place  over  which  I  had  been  walking, 
and  the  snow  had  melted  on  the  underside  until  it  was  not 
strong  enough  to  support  my  weight.  I  could  not  touch 
bottom  with  my  feet,  and  so  could  form  no  idea  of  the  depth 
of  the  stream.  By  long  and  careful  exertion  I  managed  to 
draw  myself  backward  and  up  on  the  snow.  I  then  went 
around  on  the  hillside,  and  continued  my  journey.  At  last, 
just  at  dark,  completely  exhausted  and  almost  dead,  I  came 
in  sight  of  the  Graves  cabin.  I  shall  never  forget  my  joy  at 
sight  of  that  log-cabin.  I  felt  that  I  was  no  longer  lost,  and 
would  at  least  have  shelter.  Some  time  after  dark  I  reached 
my  own  cabin.  My  clothes  were  wet  by  getting  in  the 
creek,  and  the  night  was  so  cold  that  my  garments  were 
frozen  into  sheets  of  ice.  I  was  so  weary,  and  chilled,  and 
numbed,  that  I  did  not  build  up  a  fire,  or  attempt  to  get  any- 
thing to  eat,  but  rolled  myself  up  in  the  bed-clothes  and 
tried  to  get  warm.  Nearly  all  night  I  lay  there  shivering 
with  cold  ;  and  when  I  finally  slept,  I  slept  very  soundly.  I 
did  not  wake  up  until  quite  late  the  next  morning.  To  my 
utter  astonishment  my  camp  was  in  the  most  inexplicable 
confusion.  My  trunks  were  broken  open,  and  their  contents 
were  scattered  everywhere.  Everything  about  the  cabin  was 
torn  up  and  thrown  about  the  floor.  My  wife's  jewelry,  my 
cloak,  my  pistol  and  ammunition  were  missing.     I  supposed 


EXTORTING    A    CONFESSION.  21  5 

Indians  had  robbed  my  camp  during  my  absence.  Suddenly 
I  was  startled  by  the  sound  of  human  voices.  I  hurried  up 
to  the  surface  of  the  snow,  and  saw  white  men  coming 
toward  the  cabin.  I  was  overwhelmed  with  joy  and  grati- 
tude at  the  prospect  of  my  deliverance.  I  had  suffered  so 
much,  and  for  so  long  a  time,  that  I  could  scarcely  believe 
my  senses.  Imagine  my  astonishment  upon  their  arrival  to 
be  greeted,  not  with  a  'good  morning'  or  a  kind  word,  but 
with  the  gruff,  insolent  demand,  'Where  is  Donner's  money?' 

"  I  told  them  they  ought  to  give  me  something  to  eat,  and 
that  I  would  talk  with  them  afterwards,  but  no,  they  insisted 
that  I  should  tell  them  about  Donner's  money.  I  asked 
them  who  they  were,  and  where  they  came  from,  but  they 
replied  by  threatening  to  kill  me  if  I  did  not  give  up  the 
money.  They  threatened  to  hang  or  shoot  me,  and  at  last  I 
told  them  I  had  promised  Mrs.  Donner  that  I  would  carry 
her  money  to  her  children,  and  I  proposed  to  do  so,  unless 
shown  some  authority  by  which  they  had  a  better  claim. 
This  so  exasperated  them,  that  they  acted  as  though  they 
were  going  to  kill  me.  I  offered  to  let  them  bind  me  as  a 
prisoner,  and  take  me  before  the  alcalde  at  Sutter's  Fort,  and 
I  promised  that  I  would  then  tell  all  I  knew  about  the  money. 
They  would  hsten  to  nothing,  however,  and  finally  I  told 
them  where  they  would  find  the  silver  buried,  and  gave  them 
the  gold.  After  I  had  done  this,  they  showed  me  a  document 
from  Alcalde  Sinclair,  by  which  they  were  to  receive  a  certain 
proportion  of  all  moneys  and  property  which  they  rescued." 

The  men  spoken  of  by  Keseberg,  were  the  fourth  relief 
party.  Their  names  were,  Captain  Fallon,  William  M.  Fos- 
ter, John  Rhodes,  J.  Foster,  R.  P.  Tucker,  E.  Coffeemire,  and 
Keyser.  William  M.  Foster  had  recrossed  the  mount- 
ains the  second  time,  hoping  to  rescue  his  wife's  mother, 
Mrs.  Murphy.     Alas!  he  found  only  her  mutilated  remains. 


Chapter  XX. 


Dates  of  the  Rescues — Arrival  of  the  Fourth  Relief — A  Scene  Beggaring  De- 
scription— The  Wealth  of  the  Donners — An  Appeal  to  the  Highest  Court 
— A  Dreadful  Shock — Saved  from  a  Grizzly  Bear — A  Trial  for  Slander — 
Keseberg  Vindicated — Two  Kettles  of  Human  Blood — The  Enmity  of  the 
Relief  Party — "Born  under  an  Evil  Star" — "Stone  Him!  Stone  Him!" — 
Fire  and  Flood — Keseberg's  Reputation  for  Honesty — A  Prisoner  in  his 
own  House — The  Most  Miserable  of  Men. 


December  i6,  1846,  the  fifteen  composing  the  "For- 
lorn Hope,"  left  Donner  Lake.  January  17,  1847, 
y-A  they  reached  Johnson's  ranch;  and  February  5th 
Capt.  Tucker's  party  started  to  the  assistance  of  the 
emigrants.  This  first  relief  arrived  February  19th  at 
the  cabins;  the  second  rehef,  or  Reed's  party,  arrived  March 
ist;  the  third,  or  Foster's,  about  the  middle  of  March;  and 
the  fourth,  or  Fallon's,  on  the  seventeenth  of  April.  Upon 
the  arrival  of  Capt.  Fallon's  company,  the  sight  presented  at 
the  cabins  beggars  all  description.  Capt.  R.  P.  Tucker,  now 
of  Goleta,  Santa  Barbara  County,  Cal.,  endeavors,  in  his  cor- 
respondence, to  give  a  slight  idea  of  the  scene.  Human 
bodies,  terribly  mutilated,  legs,  arms,  skulls,  and  portions  of 
remains,  were  scattered  in  every  direction  and  strewn  about 
the  camp.     Mr.  Foster  found  Mrs.  Murphy's  body  with  one 


THE    WEALTH    OF  THE  DONNERS.  21/ 

of  her  limbs  sawed  off,  the  saw  still  lying  by  her  remains. 
It  was  such  scenes  as  these  which  gave  this  party  their  first 
abhorrence  for  Keseberg.  The  man  was  nowhere  to  be  seen, 
but  a  fresh  track  was  discovered  in  the  snow  leading  away 
from  the  cabins  toward  the  Donner  tents.  The  party  pressed 
forward  to  Alder  Creek.  Captain  Tucker  writes :  "  The  dead 
bodies  lay  moldering  around,  being  all  that  was  left  to  tell 
the  tale  of  sorrow.  On  my  first  trip  we  had  cut  down  a  large 
pine  tree,  and  laid  the  goods  of  the  Donners  on  this  tree  to 
dry  in  the  sun.  These  goods  lay  there  yet,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  those  which  Reed's  party  had  taken  away." 

George  Donner  was  wealthy.  His  wealth  consisted  not 
merely  of  goods,  as  many  claim,  but  of  a  large  amount  of 
coin.  Hiram  Miller,  of  the  relief  parties,  is  authority  for 
the  statement  that  Mr.  Donner  owned  a  quarter  section  of 
land  within  the  present  city  limits  of  Chicago.  This  land 
was  sold  for  ten  thousand  dollars,  shortly  before  Mr.  Don- 
ner started  for  California.  Mr.  Allen  Francis,  who  has  been 
mentioned  as  the  very  best  authority  concerning  this  family, 
camped  with  them  on  the  evening  of  their  first  night's  jour- 
ney out  of  Springfield,  Illinois,  saw  Mr.  Donner's  money, 
and  thinks  there  was  ten  thousand  dollars.  Mrs.  F.  E.  Bond, 
of  Elk  Grove,  Sacramento  County,  California,  does  not  re- 
member the  exact  amount,  but  knows  that  Mr.  Donner 
started  with  a  great  deal  of  gold,  because  she  helped  make 
the  belts  in  which  it  was  to  be  carried  in  crossing  the  plains. 
The  relief  parties  always  understood  there  was  at  Donner's 
camp  a  large  sum  of  money,  estimated  at  from  six  to  four- 
teen thousand  dollars.  It  is  not  disputed  that  Halloran  left 
about  fifteen  hundred  dollars  to  this  family.  Yet  Capt.  Fal- 
lon's party  could  find  no  money.  It  was  clear  to  their  minds 
that  some  one  had  robbed  the  Donner  tents. 

Remaining  over  night,  thoroughly  searching  in  every  place 


ni8  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER   PARTY. 

where  the  supposed  money  could  be  concealed,  this  party  re- 
turned to  Donner  Lake.  On  their  way  they  found  the  same 
mysterious  track,  also  returning  to  the  cabins.  They  prob- 
ably discovered  Keseberg  in  about  the  manner  described.  It 
is  plain  to  be  seen  that  they  regarded  him  as  the  murderer 
of  Mrs.  Donner.  In  forcing  him  to  tell  what  he  had  done 
with  the  money,  they,  too,  claim  to  have  choked  him,  to 
have  put  a  rope  around  his  neck,  and  to  have  threatened  to 
hang  him.  On  the  other  hand,  if  Keseberg's  statement  be 
accepted  as  truth,  it  is  easy  to  understand  why  he  refused  to 
surrender  the  money  to  men  who  treated  him  from  the  outset 
as  a  murderer  and  a  robber. 

Let  the  God  to  whom  Lewis  Keseberg  appeals  be  his  judge. 
It  is  not  the  part  of  this  book  to  condemn  or  acquit  him. 
Most  of  the  fourth  relief  party  have  already  gone  before  the 
bar  at  which  Keseberg  asks  to  be  tried.  Capt.  Tucker  is 
about  the  only  available  witness,  and  his  testimony  is  far 
more  lenient  than  the  rumors  and  falsehoods  usually  pub- 
lished. 

If  Keseberg  be  guilty  of  any  or  of  all  crimes,  it  will  pres- 
ently be  seen  that  the  most  revengeful  being  on  earth  could 
not  ask  that  another  drop  be  added  to  his  cup  of  bitterness. 
His  statement  continues : 

"  These  men  treated  me  with  the  greatest  unkindness.  Mr. 
Tucker  was  the  only  one  who  took  my  part  or  befriended 
me.  When  they  started  over  the  mountains,  each  man  car- 
ried two  bales  of  goods.  They  had  silks,  calicoes,  and  de- 
laines from  the  Donners,  and  other  articles  of  great  value. 
Each  man  would  carry  one  bundle  a  little  way,  lay  it  down, 
and  come  back  and  get  the  other  bundle.  In  this  way  they 
passed  over  the  snow  three  times.  I  could  not  keep  up  with 
them  because  I  was  so  weak,  but  managed  to  come  up  to 
their  camp  every  night.     One  day  I  was  dragging  myself 


A   TRIAL   FOR   SLANDER.  219 

slowly  along  behind  the  party,  when  I  came  to  a  place  which 
had  evidently  been  used  as  a  camping-ground  by  some  of 
the  previous  parties.  Feeling  very  tired,  I  thought  it  would 
be  a  good  place  to  make  some  coffee.  Kindling  a  fire,  I  filled 
my  coffee-pot  with  fresh  snow  and  sat  waiting  for  it  to  melt 
and  get  hot.  Happening  to  cast  my  eyes  carelessly  around, 
I  discovered  a  little  piece  of  calico  protruding  from  the  snow- 
Half  thoughtlessly,  half  out  of  idle  curiosity,  I  caught  hold 
of  the  cloth,  and  finding  it  did  not  come  readih^  I  gave  it  a 
strong  pull.  I  had  in  my  hands  the  body  of  my  dead  child 
Ada!  She  had  been  buried  in  the  snow,  which,  melting 
down,  had  disclosed  a  portion  of  her  clothing.  I  thought  I 
should  go  frantic!  It  was  the  first  intimation  I  had  of  her 
death,  and  it  came  with  such  a  shock! 

"Just  as  we  were  getting  out  of  the  snow,  I  happened  to 
be  sitting  in  camp  alone  one  afternoon.  The  men  were  hunt- 
ing, or  attending  to  their  goods.  I  was  congratulating  my- 
self upon  my  escape  from  the  mountains,  when  I  was  startled 
by  a  snuffling,  growling  noise,  and  looking  up,  I  saw  a  large 
grizzly  bear  only  a  few  feet  away.  I  knew  I  was  too  weak  to 
attempt  to  escape,  and  so  remained  where  I  sat,  expecting 
every  moment  he  would  devour  me.  Suddenly  there  was  the 
report  of  a  gun,  and  the  bear  fell  dead.  Mr.  Foster  had  dis- 
covered the  animal,  and  slipping  up  close  to  camp,  had 
killed  it." 

When  the  party  arrived  at  Sutter's  Fort,  they  took  no  pains 
to  conceal  their  feelings  toward  Keseberg.  Some  of  the  men 
openly  accused  him  of  Mrs.  Donner's  murder.  Keseberg,  at 
the  suggestion  of  Captain  Sutter,  brought  action  against  Cap- 
tain Fallon,  Ned  Coffeemire,  and  the  others,  for  slander.  The 
case  was  tried  before  Alcalde  Sinclair,  and  the  jury  gave 
Keseberg  a  verdict  of  one  dollar  damages.  The  old  alcalde 
records   are   not   in   existence,  but   some    of  the   survivors 


220  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

remember  the  circumstance,  and  Mrs.  Samuel  Kyburz,  now 
of  Clarksville,  EI  Dorado  County,  was  a  witness  at  the  trial. 
If  Keseberg  was  able  to  vindicate  himself  in  an  action  for 
slander  against  the  evidence  of  all  the  party,  it  is  clear  that 
such  evidence  was  not  adduced  as  has  frequently  appeared  in 
books.  For  instance,  in  Captain  Fallon's  report  of  this  trip, 
he  alleges  that  "in  the  cabin  with  Keseberg  were  found  two 
kettles  of  human  blood,  in  all  supposed  to  be  over  one  gal- 
lon." Had  this  been  proven,  no  jury  would  have  found  for 
Keseberg.  Fresh  blood  could  not  have  been  obtained  from 
starved  bodies,  and  had  the  blood  been  found,  Keseberg 
would  have  been  adjudged  a  murderer. 

Speaking  upon  this  point,  Keseberg  denies  the  assertion 
that  any  blood  was  discovered,  calls  attention  to  the  length 
of  time  Mrs.  Donner  had  been  dead,  to  the  readiness  with 
which  blood  coagulates,  and  adds  that  not  a  witness  testified 
to  such  a  circumstance  at  the  trial.  Why  should  Keseberg 
murder  Mrs.  Donner?  If  he  wanted  her  money,  it  was  only 
necessary  to  allow  her  to  go  out  into  the  mountains  alone, 
without  provisions,  without  any  one  to  point  out  the  way, 
and  perish  in  the  trackless  snows.  She  could  not  carry  any 
considerable  portion  of  her  money  with  her,  and  he  had  only 
to  go  back  to  Alder  Creek  and  secure  the  treasure.  He  bears 
witness  that  she  never  tasted  human  flesh;  that  she  would 
not  partake  of  the  food  he  offered;  how  reasonable,  then,  the 
story  of  her  death.  The  fourth  relief  party  expected  to  find 
a  vast  sum  of  money.  One  half  was  to  be  given  them  for 
their  trouble.  They  regarded  the  man  Keseberg  as  the  mur- 
derer of  George  Foster,  because  of  the  reports  given  by  the 
little  children  brought  out  by  the  third  relief.  The  father  of 
this  child  was  with  both  the  third  and  fourth  reliefs.  Arriv- 
ing at  the  cabins,  they  were  amazed  and  horrified  at  the 
dreadful     sights.     Hastening  to   the   tents,   they   found   no 


LEWIS  KESEBERG. 

1879. 


"stone  HIM!    STONE   HIM!"  221 

money.  Their  idea  that  Keseberg  was  a  thief  was  confirmed 
by  his  disgorging  the  money  when  threatened  with  death. 
There  was  much  reason  for  their  hatred  of  the  man  who 
crossed  the  mountains  with  them,  and  this  was  intensified  by 
their  being  brought  before  Alcalde  Sinclair  and  proven  slan- 
derers. Out  of  this  hatred  has  grown  reports  which  time 
has  magnified  into  the  hideous  falsehoods  which  greet  the 
ear  from  all  directions.  Keseberg  may  be  responsible  for  the 
death  of  Hardcoop,  but  urges  in  his  defense  that  all  were 
walking,  even  to  the  women  and  the  children.  He  says 
Hardcoop  was  not  missed  until  evening,  and  that  it  was  sup- 
posed the  old  man  would  catch  up  with  the  train  during  the 
night.  The  terrible  dangers  surrounding  the  company,  the 
extreme  lateness  of  the  season,  the  weakness  of  the  oxen, 
and  the  constant  fear  of  lurking,  hostile  Indians,  prevented 
him  or  any  one  else  from  going  back.  Keseberg  may  be  re- 
sponsible for  the  death  of  Wolfinger,  of  George  Foster,  of 
James  Eddy,  of  Mrs.  Murphy,  and  of  Mrs.  Tamsen  Donner, 
but  the  most  careful  searcher  for  evidence  can  not  find  the 
slightest  trace  of  proofs.  In  his  own  mournful  language,  he 
comes  near  the  truth  when  he  says : 

"  I  have  been  born  under  an  evil  star!  Fate,  misfortune, 
bad  luck,  compelled  me  to  remain  at  Donner  Lake.  If  God 
would  decree  that  I  should  again  pass  through  such  an  or- 
deal, I  could  not  do  otherwise  than  I  did.  My  conscience  is 
free  from  reproach.  Yet  that  camp  has  been  the  one  burden 
of  my  life.  Wherever  I  have  gone,  people  have  cried,  '  Stone 
him!  stone  him!'  Even  the  little  children  in  the  streets  have 
mocked  me  and  thrown  stones  at  me  as  I  passed.  Only  a 
man  conscious  of  his  innocence,  and  clear  in  the  sight  of 
God,  would  not  have  succumbed  to  the  terrible  things  which 
have  been  said  of  me — would  not  have  committed  suicide! 
Mortification,   disgrace,  disaster,  and  unheard-of  misfortune 


222  HISTORY  OF  THE    CONNER  PARTY. 

have  followed  and  overwhelmed  me.  I  often  think  that  the 
Almighty  has  singled  me  out,  among  all  the  men  on  the  face 
of  the  earth,  in  order  to  see  how  much  hardship,  suffering, 
and  misery  a  human  being  can  bear! 

"  Soon  after  my  arrival  at  the  Fort,  I  took  charge  of  the 
schooner  Sacramento,  and  conveyed  wheat  from  Sacramento 
to  San  Francisco,  in  payment  of  Capt.  Sutter's  purchase  of 
the  Russian  possessions.  I  worked  seven  months  for  Sutter; 
but,  although  he  was  kind  to  me,  I  did  not  get  my  money. 
I  then  went  to  Sonoma,  and  worked  about  the  same  length 
of  time  for  Gen.  Vallejo.  I  had  a  good  position  and  good 
prospects,  but  left  for  the  gold  mines.  Soon  afterward  I  was 
taken  sick,  and  for  eight  months  was  an  invalid.  I  then 
went  to  Sutter's  Fort  and  started  a  boarding-house.  I  made 
money  rapidly.  After  a  time  I  built  a  house  south  of  the 
Fort,  which  cost  ten  thousand  dollars.  In  1851  I  purchased 
the  Lady  Adams  hotel,  in  Sacramento.  It  was  a  valuable 
property,  and  I  finally  sold  it  at  auction  for  a  large  sum  of 
money.  This  money  was  to  be  paid  the  next  day.  The 
deeds  had  already  passed.  That  night  the  terrible  fire  of 
1852  occurred,  and  not  only  swept  away  the  hotel,  but  ruined 
the  purchaser,  so  that  I  could  not  collect  one  cent.  I  went 
back  to  Sutter's  Fort  and  started  the  Phoenix  Brewery.  I 
succeeded,  and  acquired  considerable  property.  I  finally  sold 
out  for  fifty  thousand  dollars.  I  had  concluded  to  take  this 
money,  go  back  to  Germany,  and  live  quietly  the  rest  of  my 
days.  The  purchaser  went  to  San  Francisco  to  draw  the 
money.  The  sale  was  effected  eight  days  before  the  great 
flood  of  1861-^2.     The  flood  came,  and  I  lost  everything." 

Thus,  throughout  his  entire  career,  have  business  reverses 
followed  Lewis  Kescberg.  Several  times  he  has  been  wealthy 
and  honorabl)'  situated.  At  one  time  he  was  a  partner  of 
Sam.   Brannan,  -n   a   mammoth  distillery  at   Calistoga;  and 


THE    MOST    MISERABLE   OV   MEN.  223 

Mr.  Brannan  is  one  among  many  who  speak  in  highest 
terms  of  his  honesty,  integrity,  and  business  capacity.  On 
the  thirtieth  of  January,  1877,  Phillipine  Keseberg,  his  faithful 
wife,  died.  This  was  the  severest  loss  of  all,  as  will  pres- 
ently be  seen- 

Eleven  children  were  born  to  them,  and  four  are  now  living. 
One  of  these,  Lillie,  now  lives  in  Sacramento  with  her  hus- 
band. Another,  Paulina,  a  widow,  resides  in  San  Rafael. 
Bertha  and  Augusta  live  with  the  father  at  Brighton,  Sacra- 
mento County.  Both  these  children  are  hopelessly  idiotic. 
Bertha  is  twenty-six  years  of  age,  and  has  never  uttered  an 
intelligible  word.  Augusta  is  fifteen  years  old,  weighs  two 
hundred  and  five  pounds,  and  possesses  only  slight  traces  of 
intelligence.  Teething  spasms,  occurring  when  they  were 
about  two  years  old,  is  the  cause  of  their  idiocy.  Both  are 
subject  to  frequent  and  violent  spasms  or  epileptic  fits.  They 
need  constant  care  and  attention.  Should  Bertha's  hand  fall 
into  the  fire,  she  has  not  sufficient  intelligence  to  withdraw  it 
from  the  flames.  Both  are  helpless  as  children.  The  State 
provides  for  insane,  but  not  for  idiots.  Keseberg  says  a  bill 
setting  aside  a  ward  in  the  State  Asylum  for  his  two  children, 
passed  the  Legislature,  but  received  a  pocket  veto  by  the 
Governor.  Sacramento  County  gives  them  eighteen  dollars 
a  month.  Their  helplessness  and  violence  render  it  impos- 
sible to  keep  any  nurse  in  charge  of  them  longer  than  a  few 
days.  Keseberg  is  very  poor.  He  has  employment  for  per- 
haps three  months  during  the  year.  While  his  wife  lived, 
she  took  care  of  these  children;  but  now  he  has  personally  to 
watch  over  them  and  provide  for  their  necessities.  While  at 
work,  he  is  compelled  to  keep  them  locked  in  a  room  in  the 
same  building.  They  scream  so  loudly  while  going  into  the 
spasms  that  he  can  not  dwell  near  other  people.  He  there- 
fore   lives    isolated,    in    a    plain    little    house  back    of    his 


224 


HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   PARTY. 


brewery.  Here  he  lives,  the  saddest,  lonehest,  most  pitiable 
creature  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  He  traces  all  his  misfor- 
tunes to  that  cabin  on  Donner  Lake,  and  it  is  little  wonder 
that  he  says:  "  I  beg  of  you,  insert  in  your  book  a  fervent 
prayer  to  Almighty  God  that  He  will  forever  prevent  the  re- 
currence of  a  similar  scene  of  horror." 


Chapter  XXL 


Sketch  of  Gen.  John  A.  Sutter — The  Donner  Party's  Benefactor — The  Least 
and  Most  that  Earth  can  Bestow — The  Survivors'  Request — His  Birth  and 
Parentage — Efforts  to  Reach  CaUfornia — New  Helvetia — A  Puny  Army — 
Uninviting  Isolation — Ross  and  Bodega — Unbounded  Generosity — Sutter's 
Wealth — Effect  of  the  Gold  Fever — WTiolesale  Robbery — The  Sobrante 
Decision — A  "Genuine  and  Meritorious"  Grant — Utter  Ruin — Hock  Farm 
— Gen.  Sutter's  Death — Mrs.  E.  P.  Houghton's  Tribute. 


ft<^o.^^<t)rf^Qojr 


CvO'>4i-*'KT^ 


JEALOUS  in  sending  supplies  and  relief  to  the  suffer- 
ing   Donner    Party,   earnest    in    providing    shelter, 
^  clothing,  and  food  to  all  who  were  rescued,  Captain 
dm     John  A.  Sutter  merits  more  than  a  passing  mention 
^       in   this    history.     From    the   arrival    of    Stanton    at 
Sutter's  Fort  with  the  tidings  that  a  destitute  emigrant  train 
was  eu  route  for  California  until  the  return  of  the  fourth  relief 
party  with  Lewis  Keseberg,  Captain  Sutter's  time,  wealth,  and 
influence  were  enlisted  in  behalf  of  the  party.     Actuated  only 
oy  motives  of  benevolence  and  humanity,  he  gave  Stanton 
and  the  various  relief  parties  full  and  free  access  to  whatever 
he  possessed,  whether  of  money,  provisions,  clothing,  mules, 
cattle,  or  guides.     With  all  due  deference  to  the  generosit}' 
of  Yerba  Buena's  citizens,  and  to  the   heroic  endeavors  of 
the  noble  men  who  risked  their  lives  in  rescuing  the  starving 
emigrants,   it  is  but  just   and    right  that   this  warm-hearted 
>5 


226  HISTORY   OF  THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

philanthropist  should  be  accorded  the  honor  of  being  first 
among  the  benefactors  of  the  Donner  Party.  His  kindness 
did  not  cease  with  the  arrival  of  the  half-starved  survivors  at 
Sutter's  Fort,  but  continued  until  all  had  found  places  of 
employment,  and  means  of  subsistance.  Pitiful  and  un- 
worthy is  the  reward  which  history  can  bestow  upon  such 
a  noble  character,  yet  since  he  never  received  any  remunera- 
tion for  his  efforts  and  sacrifices,  the  reward  of  a  noble  name 
is  the  least  and  the  most  that  earth  can  now  bestow.  In 
view  of  his  good  deeds,  the  survivors  of  the  Donner  Party 
have  almost  unanimously  requested  that  a  brief  biographical 
sketch  of  the  man  be  inserted  in  these  pages. 

At  midnight  on  the  twenty-eighth  of  February  (or  first  of 
March),  1803,  John  A.  Sutter  was  born  in  the  city  of  Baden. 
He  was  of  Swiss  parentage,  and  his  father  and  mother  were 
of  the  Canton  Berne.  Educated  in  Baden,  we  find  him  at 
the  age  of  thirty  a  captain  in  the  French  army.  Filled  with 
enthusiasm,  energy,  and  love  of  adventure,  his  eyes  turned 
toward  America  as  his  "land  of  promise,"  and  in  July,  1834, 
he  arrived  in  New  York.  Again  breaking  away  from  the 
restraints  of  civilized  life,  he  soon  made  his  way  to  the  then 
almost  unknown  regions  west  of  the  Mississippi.  For  some 
years  he  lived  near  St.  Charles,  in  Missouri.  At  one  time  he 
entertained  the  idea  of  establishing  a  Swiss  colony  at  this 
point,  and  was  only  prevented  by  the  sinking  of  his  vessel 
of  supplies  in  the  Mississippi  River.  During  this  time  he 
accompanied  an  exploring  party  into  the  sultry,  sand-covered 
wastes  of  New  Mexico.  Here  he  met  hunters  and  trappers 
from  California,  and  listened  to  tales  of  its  beauty,  fertility, 
and  grandeur  which  awoke  irresistible  longings  in  his  breast. 
In  March,  1838,  with  Captain  Tripp,  of  the  American  Fur 
Company,  he  traveled  westward  as  far  as  the  Rocky  Mount- 
ains, and  thence  journeying  with  a  small  party  of  trappers. 


THE  DONNER  PARTY  S  BENEFACTOR.  22/ 

finally  reached  Fort  Vancouver.  Finding  no  land  route  to 
California,  he  embarked  in  a  vessel  belonging  to  the  Hudson 
Bay  Company,  which  was  ready  for  a  voyage  to  the  Sand- 
wich Islands.  From  Honolulu  he  thought  there  would  be 
little  difficulty  in  finding  passage  in  a  trading  vessel  for  the 
Coast  of  California.  Disappointed  in  this,  he  remained  at 
the  Islands  some  months,  and  finally  shipped  as  supercargo 
of  a  ship  bound  for  Sitka.  In  returning,  the  vessel  entered 
the  Bay  of  San  Francisco,  but  was  not  allowed  to  land,  and 
Monterey  was  reached  before  Sutter  was  permitted  to  set 
foot  upon  California  soil.  From  Governor  Alvarado  he  ob- 
tained the  right  of  settling  in  the  Sacramento  Valley.  After 
exploring  the  Sacramento,  Feather,  and  American  Rivers, 
finally,  on  the  sixteenth  of  August,  1839,  he  landed  near  the 
present  site  of  Sacramento  City,  and  determined  to  perma- 
nently locate.  Soon  afterward  he  began  the  construction 
of  the  famous  Sutter's  Fort.  He  took  possession  of  the 
surrounding  country,  naming  it  New  Helvetia.  One  of  the 
first  difficulties  to  be  overcome  was  the  hostility  of  the  Indian 
tribes  who  inhabited  the  Sacramento  and  San  Joaquin 
valleys.  Kindness  and  humane  treatment  were  generally 
sufficient  to  cause  these  Indians  to  become  his  allies,  yet  in 
more  than  one  instance  he  was  obliged  to  resort  to  arms. 
Considering  the  size  of  his  army,  there  is  a  sort  of  grim 
heroism  in  the  fact  that  he  successfully  waged  at  times  a 
defensive  and  at  times  an  aggressive  warfare.  His  entire 
army  was  composed  of  six  white  men,  who  had  been  col- 
lected from  different  parts  of  the  world,  and  eight  Kanakas. 
Dunbar,  in  describing  Sutter's  situation,  says :  "This  por- 
tion of  upper  California,  though  fair  to  look  upon,  was  pecul- 
iarly solitary  and  uninviting  in  its  isolation  and  remoteness 
from  civilization.  There  was  not  even  one  of  those  cattle 
ranches,  which  dotted  the  coast  at  long  intervals,  nearer  to  Sut- 


228  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

ter's  locality  than  Suisun  and  Martinez,  below  the  mouth  of  the 
Sacramento.  The  Indians  of  the  Sacramento  were  known  as 
'  Diggers.'  The  efforts  of  the  Jesuit  Fathers,  so  extensive  on 
this  continent,  and  so  beneficial  to  the  wild  Indians  wherever 
missions  were  established  among  them,  never  reached  the 
wretched  aborigines  of  the  Sacramento  country.  The  valley 
of  the  Sacramento  had  not  yet  become  the  pathway  of  emi- 
grants from  the  East,  and  no  civilized  human  being  lived  in 
this  primitive  and  solitary  region,  or  roamed  over  it,  if  we 
except  a  few  trappers  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company." 

Out  of  this  solitude  and  isolation,  Sutter,  as  if  with  a  ma- 
gician's wand,  brought  forth  wealth  and  evolved  for  himself  a 
veritable  little  kingdom.  Near  the  close  of  the  year  1839, 
eight  white  men  joined  his  colony,  and  in  1840  his  numbers 
were  increased  by  five  others.  About  this  time  the  Mokel- 
umne  Indians  became  troublesome,  and  were  conquered. 
Other  tribes  were  forced  into  submission,  and  Sutter  was 
practically  monarch  of  the  Sacramento  and  San  Joaquin. 
The  old  pioneers  speak  with  pride  of  the  wonderful  power  he 
exerted  over  these  Indians,  teaching  them  the  arts  of  civiliza- 
tion, forming  them  into  military  companies,  drilling  them  in 
the  use  of  fire-arms,  teaching  them  to  till  the  soil,  and  making 
them  familiar  with  the  rudiments  of  husbandry.  The  vast 
herds  of  cattle  which  in  process  of  time  he  acquired,  were 
tended  and  herded  principally  by  these  Indians,  and  the  can- 
non which  ultimately  came  into  his  possession  were  mounted 
upon  the  Fort,  and  in  many  instances  were  manned  by  these 
aborigines.  Hides  were  sent  to  Yerba  Buena,  a  trade  in  furs 
and  supplies  was  established  with  the  Hudson  Bay  Company, 
and  considerable  attention  was  given  to  mechanical  and  agri- 
cultural pursuits. 

In  1 841,  Sutter  obtained  grants  from  Governor  Alvarado  of 
the  eleven  leagues  of  land  comprised  in  his  New  Helvetia, 


EFFORTS   TO    REACH    CALIFORNIA.  229 

and  soon  aftei-wards  negotiated  a  purchase  of  the  Russian 
possessions  known  as  "Ross  and  Bodega."  By  this  pur- 
chase, Sutter  acquired  vast  real  and  personal  property,  the 
latter  including  two  thousand  cattle,  one  thousand  horses, 
fifty  mules,  and  two  thousand  five  hundred  sheep.  In  1845 
Sutter  acquired  from  Gov.  Manuel  Micheltorena  the  grant  of 
the  famous  Sobrante,  which  comprised  the  surplus  lands  over 
the  first  eleven  leagues  included  within  the  survey  accompa- 
nying t  he  Alvarado  grant. 

As  early  as  1844  a  great  tide  of  emigration  began  flow- 
ing from  the  Eastern  States  toward  California,  a  tide  which, 
after  the  discovery  of  gold,  became  a  deluge.  Sutter's  Fort 
became  the  great  terminal  point  of  emigration,  and  was 
far-famed  for  the  generosity  and  open-heartedness  of  its 
owner.  Relief  and  assistance  were  rendered  so  frequently 
and  so  abundantly  to  distressed  emigrants,  and  aid  and 
succor  were  so  often  sent  over  the  Sierra  to  feeble  or  dis- 
abled trains,  that  Sutter's  charity  and  generosity  became 
proverbial.  In  the  sunny  hillslopes  and  smiling  valleys, 
amidst  the  graceful  groves  and  pleasant  vineyards  of  this 
Golden  State,  it  would  be  difficult  to  find  localities  where 
pioneers  have  not  taught  their  children  to  love  and  bless 
the  memory  of  the  great  benefactor  of  the  pioneer  days, 
John  A.  Sutter.  With  his  commanding  presence,  his  smil- 
ing face,  his  wealth,  his  power,  and  his  liberality,  he  came 
to  be  regarded  in  those  days  as  a  very  king  among  men. 
What  he  did  for  the  Donner  Party  is  but  an  instance  of 
his  unvarying  kindness  toward  the  needy  and  distressed. 
During  this  time  he  rendered  important  services  to  the  United 
States,  and  notably  in  1 841,  to  the  exploring  expedition  of 
Admiral  Wilkes.  The  Peacock^  a  vessel  belonging  to  the  ex- 
pedition, was  lost  on  the  Columbia  bar,  and  a  part  of  the 
expedition  forces,  sent  overland  in  consequence,  reached  Sut- 


230  HISTORY   OF   THE    DONNER   PARTY. 

ter's  Fort  in  a  condition  of  extreme  distress,  and  were  relieved 
with  princely  hospitality.  Later  on  he  gave  equally  needed  and 
equally  generous  relief  to  Colonel  Fremont  and  his  exploring 
party.  When  the  war  with  Mexico  came  on,  his  aid  and  sym- 
pathy enabled  Fremont  to  form  a  battalion  from  among  those 
in  Sutter's  employ,  and  General  Sherman's  testimony  is,  "that 
to  him  (Sutter)  more  than  any  single  person  are  we  indebted 
for  the  conquest  of  California  with  all  its  treasures." 

In  1848,  when  gold  was  discovered  at  Sutter's  Mill,  near 
Coloma,  quoting  again  from  Dunbar:  "We  find  that  Captain 
Sutter  was  the  undisputed  possessor  of  almost  boundless 
tracts  of  land,  including  the  former  Russian  possessions  of 
Ross  and  Bodega,  and  the  site  of  the  present  city  of  Sacra- 
mento. He  had  performed  all  the  conditions  of  his  land 
grants,  built  his  fort,  and  completed  many  costly  improve- 
ments. At  an  expense  of  twenty-five  thousand  dollars  he 
had  cut  a  mill-race  three  miles  long,  and  nearly  finished  a 
new  flouring  mill.  He  had  expended  ten  thousand  dollars  in 
the  erection  of  a  saw-mill  near  Coloma;  one  thousand  acres 
of  virgin  soil  were  laid  down  to  wheat,  promising  a  yield  of 
forty  thousand  bushels,  and  extensive  preparations  had  been 
made  for  other  crops.  He  owned  eight  thousand  cattle,  two 
thousand  horses  and  mules,  two  thousand  sheep,  and  one 
thousand  swine.  He  was  the  military  commander  of  the 
district,  Indian  agent  of  the  territory,  and  Alcalde  by  ap- 
pointment of  Commodore  Stockton.  Respected  and  honored 
by  all,  he  was  the  great  man  of  the  country." 

Subsequently  he  was  a  member  of  the  Constitutional  Con- 
vention at  Monterey,  and  was  appointed  Major  General  of 
militia.  Would  that  the  sketch  of  his  life  might  end  here; 
but,  alas!  there  is  a  sad,  sad  closing  to  the  chapter.  This 
can  not  be  told  more  briefly  and  eloquently  than  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  writer  already  mentioned: 


WHOLESALE   ROBBERY.  231 

"As  soon  as  the  discovery  of  gold  was  known,  lie  was 
immediately  deserted  by  all  his  mechanics  and  laborers, 
white,  Kanaka,  and  Indian.  The  mills  were  abandoned, 
and  became  a  dead  loss.  Labor  could  not  be  hired  to 
plant,  to  mature  the  crops,  or  reap  and  gather  the  grain  that 
ripened. 

"At  an  early  period  subsequent  to  the  discovery,  an  im- 
mense emigration  from  overland  poured  into  the  Sacramento 
Valley,  making  Sutter's  domains  their  camping-ground,  with- 
out the  least  regard  for  the  rights  of'property.  They  occu- 
pied his  cultivated  fields,  and  squatted  all  over  his  available 
lands,  saying  these  were  the  unappropriated  domain  of  the 
United  States,  to  which  they  had  as  good  a  right  as  any  one. 
They  stole  and  drove  off  his  horses  and  mules,  and  ex- 
changed or  sold  them  in  other  parts  of  the  country;  they 
butchered  his  cattle,  sheep,  and  hogs,  and  sold  the  meat. 
One  party  of  five  men,  during  the  flood  of  1849-50,  when 
the  cattle  were  surrounded  by  water,  near  the  Sacramento 
river,  killed  and  sold  ^60,000  worth  of  these — as  it  was  esti- 
mated— and  left  for  the  States.  By  the  first  of  January, 
1852,  the  so-called  settlers,  under  pretense  of  pre-emption 
claims,  had  appropriated  all  Sutter's  lands  capable  of  settle- 
ment or  appropriation,  and  had  stolen  all  of  his  horses, 
mules,  cattle,  sheep,  and  hogs,  except  a  small  portion  used 
and  sold  by  himself. 

"  There  was  no  law  to  prevent  this  stupendous  robbery; 
but  when  law  was  established,  then  came  lawyers  with  it 
to  advocate  the  squatters'  pretensions,  although  there  were 
none  from  any  part  of  Christendom  who  had  not  heard  ol 
Sutter's  grants,  the  peaceful  and  just  possession  of  which  he 
had  enjoyed  for  ten  years,  and  his  improvements  were  visible 
to  all. 

"  Sutter's   efforts   to    maintain    his   rights,  and  save  even 


232  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

enough  of  his  property  to  give  him  an  economical,  comfort- 
able living,  constitute  a  sad  history,  one  that  would  of  itself 
filll  a  volume  of  painful  interest.  In  these  efforts  he  became 
involved  in  continuous  and  expensive  litigation,  which  was  not 
terminated  till  the  final  decision  of  the  Supreme  Court  in 
1858-59,  a  period  of  ten  years.  When  the  United  States 
Court  of  Land  Commissioners  was  organized  in  California, 
Sutter's  grants  came  up  in  due  course  for  confirmation. 
These  were  the  grant  of  eleven  leagues,  known  as  New  Hel- 
vetia, and  the  grant  of  twenty-two  leagues,  known  as  the 
Sobrante.  The  land  commissioners  found  these  grants  per- 
fect. Not  a  flaw  or  defect  could  be  discovered  in  either  of 
them,  and  they  were  confirmed  by  the  board,  under  the  pro- 
visions of  the  treaty  of  Guadalupe  Hidalgo. 

"  The  squatter  interest  then  appealed  to  the  United  States 
District  Court  for  the  Northern  District  of  California.  This 
court  confirmed  the  decision  of  the  land  commissioners. 
Extraordinary  as  it  may  appear,  the  squatter  interest  then 
appealed  both  cases  to  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United 
States  at  Washington,  and  still  more  extraordinary  to  relate, 
that  court,  though  it  confirmed  the  eleven-league  grant,  de- 
cided that  of  the  Sobrante — twenty-two  leagues — in  favor  of 
the  squatters.  The  court  acknowledged  that  the  grant  was  a 
"  genuine  and  meritorious  "  one,  and  then  decided  in  favor  of 
the  squatter  interest  on  purely  technical  grounds. 

"  Sutter's  ruin  was  complete,  and  its  method  may  be  thus 
stated:  He  had  been  subjected  to  a  very  great  outlay  of 
money  in  the  maintenance  of  his  title,  the  occupancy  and  the 
improvement  of  the  grant  of  New  Helvetia.  From  a  mass 
of  interesting  documents  which  I  have  been  permitted  to 
examine,  I  obtained  the  following  statement  relative  to  the 
expenses  incurred  on  that  grant: 


HOCK   FARM.  2 


:>:> 


Expenses  in  money,  and  services  which  formed  the  original  considera- 
tion of  the  grant $  50,000 

Surveys  and  taxes  on  the  same 50,000 

Cost  of  litigation  extending  through  ten  years,  including  fees  to  eminent 

counsel,  witness  fees,  traveling  expenses,  etc 125,000 

Amount  paid  out  to  make  good  the  covenants  of  deeds  upon  the  grant, 

over  and  above  what  was  received  from  sales 100,000 

$325,000 

"  In  addition,  General  Sutter  had  given  titles  to  much  of 
the  Sobra7ite  grant,  under  deeds  of  general  warranty,  which, 
after  the  decision  of  the  supreme  court  of  the  United  States 
in  favor  of  the  squatter  interest,  Sutter  was  obliged  to  make 
good,  at  an  immense  sacrifice,  out  of  the  New  Helvetia  grant ; 
so  that  the  confirmation  of  his  title  to  this  grant  was  com- 
paratively of  little  advantage  to  him.  Thus  Sutter  lost  all  his 
landed  estate. 

"  But  amid  the  wreck  and  ruin  that  came  upon  him  in 
cumulative  degree,  from  year  to  year,  Sutter  managed  to  save, 
for  a  period,  what  is  known  as  Hock  farm,  a  very  extensive 
and  valuable  estate  on  the  Feather  River.  This  estate  he 
proposed  to  secure  as  a  resting-place  in  his  old  age,  and  for 
the  separate  benefit  of  his  wife  and  children,  whom  he  had 
brought  from  Switzerland  in  1852,  having  been  separated 
from  them  eighteen  years.  Sutter's  titles  being  generally 
discredited,  his  vast  flocks  and  herds  having  dwindled  to  a 
few  head,  and  his  resources  being  all  gone,  he  was  no  longer 
able  to. hire  labor  to  work  the  farm;  and  as  a  final  catastro- 
phe, the  farm  mansion  was  totally  destroyed  by  fire  in  1865, 
and  with  it  all  General  Sutter's  valuable  records  of  his  pioneer 
life."  As  difficulties  augmented,  Hock  farm  became  incum- 
bered with  mortgages,  and  ultimately  it  was  swallowed  up  in 
the  general  ruin. 

For  some  years  he  received  a  small  allowance  from  the 
State  of  California;  but  after  a  time  this  appropriation  expired. 


234  HISTORY   OF  THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

and  was  never  thereafter  renewed.  The  later  years  of  the 
pioneer's  life  were  passed  at  Litiz,  Lancaster  County,  Penn- 
sylvania, and  his  time  was  devoted  to  ehdeavoring  to  obtain 
from  Congress  an  appropriation  of  ^50,000,  as  compensation 
for  the  expenditures  he  made  for  the  relief  of  the  early  set- 
tlers of  California.  His  death  occurred  at  Washington,  D. 
C,  on  the  eighteenth  day  of  June,  1880,  and  his  remains  were 
laid  at  rest  in  Litiz,  Pennsylvania.  The  termination  of  this 
grand,  heroic  life,  under  circumstances  of  abject  poverty  and 
destitution,  forms  as  strange  and  mournful  a  story  as  can  be 
found  in  the  annals  of  the  present  age. 

Li  concluding  this  chapter,  it  may  not  be  inappropriate  to 
quote  from  a  private  letter  written  by  Mrs.  S.  O.  Houghton, 
nee  Eliza  P.  Donner,  immediately  after  the  General's  death. 
It  aptly  illustrates  the  feeling  entertained  toward  him  by  the 
members  of  the  Donner  Party.  Writing  from  San  Jose,  she 
says: 

"  I  have  been  sad,  oh  !  so  sad,  since  tidings  flashed  across 
the  continent  telling  the  friends  of  General  Sutter  to  mourn 
his  loss.  In  tender  and  loving  thought  I  have  followed  the 
remains  to  his  home,  have  stood  by  his  bier,  touched  his  icy 
brow,  and  brushed  back  his  snowy  locks,  and  still  it  is  hard 
for  me  to  realize  that  he  is  dead ;  that  he  who  in  my  childhood 
became  my  ideal  of  all  that  is  generous,  noble,  and  good ;  he 
who  has  ever  awakened  the  warmest  gratitude  of  my  nature, 
is  to  be  laid  away  in  a  distant  land  !  But  I  must  not  yield  to 
this  mood  longer.  God  has  only  harvested  the  ripe  and 
golden  grain.  Nor  has  He  left  us  comfortless,  for  recollec- 
tion, memory's  faithful  messenger,  will  bring  from  her  treas- 
ury records  of  deeds  so  noble,  that  the  name  of  General 
Sutter  will  be  stamped  in  the  hearts  of  all  people,  so  long  as 
California  has  a  history.  Yes,  his  name  will  be  written  in 
letters  of  sunlight  on  Sierra's  snowy  mountain  sides,  will  be 


MRS.   E.   P.   HOUGHTON  S  TRIBUTE. 


235 


traced  on  the  clasps  of  gold  which  rivet  the  rocks  of  our 
State,  and  will  be  arched  in  transparent  characters  over  the 
gate  which  guards  our  western  tide.  All  who  see  this  land 
of  the  sunset  will  read,  and  know,  and  love  the  name  of  John 
A.  Sutter,  who  fed  the  hungry,  clothed  the  naked,  and  com- 
forted the  sorrowing  children  of  California's  pioneer  days." 


Chapter  XXIL 


The  Death  List — The  Forty-two  Who  Perished — Names  of  Those  Saved — 
Forty-eight  Survivors — Traversing  Snow-Belt  Five  Times — Burying  the 
Dead — An  Appalling  Spectacle — Tamsen  Donner's  Last  Act  of  Devotion — 
A  Remarkable  Proposal  —  Twenty-six  Present  Survivors — McCutchen — 
Keseberg — The  Graves  Family — The  Murphys — Naming  Marysville — The 
Reeds — The  Breens. 


I^^ITH  the  arrival  of  the  emigrants  at  places  of  safety, 
1M^  this  history  properly  closes.  The  members  of  the 
Donner  Party  were  actively  and  intimately  associ- 
Mh  ated  with  all  the  early  pioneer  history  of  the  State. 
^  The  life  of  almost  every  one  would  furnish  founda- 
tion for  a  most  interesting  biographical  sketch.  Ninety 
names  were  mentioned  in  the  first  chapter.  Of  these,  forty- 
two  perished.  Mrs.  Sarah  Keyes,  Halloran,  John  Snyder, 
Hardcoop,  Wolfinger  and  William  M.  Pike  did  not  live  to 
reach  the  mountain  camps.  The  first  victim  of  starvation, 
Baylis  Williams,  died  in  the  Reed  cabin.  About  this  time 
Jacob  Donner,  Samuel  Shoemaker,  Joseph  Rhinehart  and 
James  Smith  perished  at  Alder  Creek.  The  five  deaths  last 
mentioned  occurred  within  one  week,  about  the  middle  of 
December.  During  the  journey  of  the  "Forlorn  Hope," 
the   fifteen  were   reduced   to  seven   by  the  deaths  of  C.  T. 


FORTY-EIGHT   SURVIVORS.  237 

Stanton,  F.  W.  Graves,  Antoine,  Patrick  Dolan,  Lemuel 
Murphy,  Jay  Fosdick,  Lewis,  and  Salvador.  Meantime,  en- 
rolled on  the  death-list  at  Donner  Lake,  were  the  names  of 
Charles  Burger,  Lewis  Keseberg,  Jr.,  John  Landrum  Murphy, 
Margaret  Eddy,  Harriet  McCutchen,  Augustus  Spitzer,  Mrs. 
Eleanor  Eddy,  Milton  Elliott,  and  Catherine  Pike. 

During  the  journey  of  the  first  relief  party,  Ada  Keseberg, 
John  Denton,  and  William  Hook  perished,  and  with  the 
second  relief  party  died  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Graves,  Isaac  Donner, 
and  F.  W.  Graves,  Jr.  About  this  time,  at  the  tents,  died 
Lewis  Donner,  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Donner,  and  Samuel  Donner, 
George  Foster  and  James  Eddy.  No  deaths  occurred  in  the 
party  of  the  third  relief,  and  no  names  are  to  be  added  to 
the  fatal  list  save  Mrs.  Lavina  Murphy,  George  Donner,  and 
Mrs.  Tamsen  Donner. 

Out  of  the  Donner  Party,  forty-eight  survived.  Walter 
Herron  reached  California  with  James  F.  Reed,  and  did  not 
return.  Of  the  "Forlorn  Hope,"  Mary  A.  Graves,  Mrs. 
Sarah  Fosdick,  Mrs.  Amanda  M.  McCutchen,  Mrs.  Harriet 
F.  Pike,  Mrs.  S.  A.  C.  Foster,  William  M.  Foster,  and  W.  H. 
Eddy  lived.  The  two  last  mentioned  returned  and  again 
braved  the  dangers  which  encompassed  the  emigrants.  The 
first  relief  party  rescued  Mrs.  Margaret  W.  Reed,  Virginia  E. 
Reed  and  James  F.  Reed,  Jr.,  Elitha  C.  Donner,  Leanna  C. 
Donner,  George  Donner,  Jr.,  Wm.  G.  Murphy,  Mary  M. 
Murphy,  Naomi  L.  Pike,  W.  C.  Graves,  Eleanor  Graves, 
Lovina  Graves,  Mrs.  Phillipine  Keseberg,  Edward  J.  Breen, 
Simon  P.  Breen,  Eliza  Williams,  Noah  James,  and  Mrs. 
Wolfinger. 

The  second  relief  succeeded  in  reaching  the  settlements 
with  only  Solomon  Hook,  Patty  Reed,  and  Thomas  K.  Reed. 
With  this  party  were  its  Captain,  James  F.  Reed,  and  William 
McCutchen.     Those  who  were  brought  to  Starved  Camp  by 


238  HISTORY   OF  THE   DONNER  PARTY. 

the  second  relief,  and  saved  by  a  portion  of  the  third  relief, 
were  Patrick  Breen,  Mrs.  Margaret  Breen,  John  Breen,  Pat- 
rick Breen,  Jr.,  James  F.  Breen,  Peter  Breen,  Isabella  M. 
Breen,  Nancy  Graves,  Jonathan  Graves,  Elizabeth  Graves, 
and  Mary  M.  Donner.  The  remainder  of  the  third  relief 
rescued  Simon  P.  Murphy,  Frances  E.  Donner,  Georgia  A. 
Donner,  Eliza  P.  Donner,  and  John  Baptiste.  W.  H.  Eddy 
remained  in  the  valleys  after  making  this  journey.  Wm.  M. 
Foster  traversed  the  snow-belt  no  less  than  five  times — once 
with  the  "Forlorn  Hope,"  twice  with  the  third  relief,  and 
twice  with  the  fourth.  The  fourth  relief  rescued  Lewis 
Keseberg. 

General  Kearney  visited  the  cabins  at  Donner  Lake  on  the 
twenty-second  of  June,  1847.  Edwin  Bryant,  the  author  of 
"What  I  Saw  in  California,"  was  with  General  Kearney,  and 
says:  "A  halt  was  ordered  for  the  purpose  of  collecting  and 
interring  the  remains.  Near  the  principal  cabins  I  saw  two 
bodies  entire,  with  the  exception  that  the  abdomens  had  been 
cut  open  and  the  entrails  extracted.  Their  flesh  had  been 
either  wasted  by  famine  or  evaporated  by  exposure  to  the  dry 
atmosphere,  and  they  presented  the  appearance  of  mummies. 
Strewn  around  the  cabins  were  dislocated  and  broken  skulls 
(in  some  instances  sawed  asunder  with  care,  for  the  purpose 
of  extracting  the  brains),  human  skeletons,  in  short,  in  every 
variety  of  mutilation.  A  more  revolting  and  appalling  spec- 
tacle I  never  witnessed.  The  remains  were,  by  an  order  of 
General  Kearney,  collected  and  buried  under  the  supci'in- 
tendcncc  of  Major  Swords.  They  were  interred  in  a  pit 
which  had  been  dug  in  the  center  of  one  of  the  cabins  for  a 
cache.  These  melancholy  duties  to  the  dead  being  per- 
formed, the  cabins,  by  order  of  Major  Swords,  were  fired, 
and  with  everything  surrounding  them  connected  with  this 
horrid  and  melancholy  tragedy  were  consumed.     The  body 


THE   GRAVES   FAMILY.  239 

of  George  Donner  was  found  at  his  camp,  about  eight  or  ten 
miles  distant,  wrapped  in  a  sheet.  He  was  buried  by  a  party 
of  men  detailed  for  that  purpose." 

To  carefully  lay  out  her  husband's  body,  and  tenderly  en- 
fold it  in  a  winding-sheet,  was  the  last  act  of  devotion  to  her 
husband  which  was  performed  by  Tamsen  Donner. 

With  varying  incidents  and  episodes,  the  immigrants  all 
reached  Sutter's  Fort.  One  very  attractive  young  lady  re- 
ceived a  proposal  of  marriage  while  doing  her  best  to  man- 
age the  rebellious  mule  on  which  she  was  riding.  The 
would-be  lover  pleaded  his  case  well,  considering  the  adverse 
circumstances,  but  the  young  lady  gave  not  her  consent. 

Twenty-six,  and  possibly  twenty-eight,  out  of  the  forty- 
eight  survivors,  are  living  to-day.  Noah  James  is  believed 
to  be  alive,  and  John  Baptiste  was  living  only  a  short  time 
since,  at  Ukiah,  Mendocino  County,  California.  Besides 
these  two,  there  are  twenty-six  whose  residences  are  known. 
William  McCutchen,  who  came  from  Jackson  County,  Mis- 
souri, is  hale  and  strong,  and  is  a  highly-respected  resident 
of  San  Jose,  California.  Mr.  McCutchen  is  a  native  of  Nash- 
ville, Tennessee,  was  about  thirty  years  old  at  the  time  of  the 
disaster,  and  has  a  clear,  correct  recollection  of  all  that  trans- 
pired. Lewis  Keseberg's  history  has  been  pretty  fully  out- 
hned  in  his  statement.  He  resides  in  Brighton,  Sacramento 
County,  California. 

In  May,  1847,  Mary  A.  Graves  married  Edward  Pile.  He 
was  murdered  by  a  Spaniard  in  1848,  and  this  Spaniard  was 
the  first  person  hanged  in  California  under  the  laws  of  the 
United  States.  In  1851  or  1852  Mrs.  Pile  married  J.  T. 
Clarke.  Their  children  are:  Robert  F.,  born  in  1852,  who  is 
married  and  living  at  White  River,  Tulare  County  Cal.;  Mat- 
tie,  born  in  1854,  and  now  the  wife  of  P.  Bequette,  Jr.,  of 
Visalia;  James  Thomas,  born  in   1857;  an  infant,  who  died 


240  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

soon  after  birth;  Belle,  born  in  i860,  and  died  in  1871;  Alex- 
ander R.,  born  in  1865,  and  Daniel  M.,  born  in  1872.  Mrs. 
M.  A.  Clarke's  address  is  White  River,  Tulare  County,  Cali- 
fornia. 

Eleanor  Graves  married  William  McDonnell  about  the  first 
of  September,  1849.  Their  children  are:  Ann,  born  Septem- 
ber, 1850;  Charles,  born  in  1852;  Mary,  born  in  1855,  mar- 
ried to  Lester  Green,  January  2,  1878,  and  now  living  on  the 
Sacramento  River,  about  seventeen  miles  below  the  city; 
Lillie,  born  April  14,  1857,  died  in  February,  1873;  Frank- 
lin, born  in  i860,  died  in  March,  1873;  Henry,  born  July, 
1864;  Eleanor,  born  July,  1868;  Leslie,  born  October,  1872, 
died  March,  1873;  Louisa,  born  in  1878.  Mrs.  Eleanor  Mc- 
Donnell and  family  reside  in  Knights  Valley,  Sonoma 
County.     Their  address  is  Calistoga,  California. 

Lovina  Graves  married  John  Cyrus  June  5,  1856.  Their 
children  are:  Henry  E.,  born  April  12,  1859;  James  W., 
born  February  16,  1861;  Mary  A.,  born  April  26,  1863; 
Sarah  Grace,  born  December  11,  1866;  and  Rachel  E., 
born  January  27,  1873.     Their  address  is  Calistoga. 

Nancy  Graves  married  Rev.  R.  W.  Williamson  in  1855. 
Their  eldest,  George,  is  an  artist  in  Virginia  City;  Emily  is 
teaching  school  in  Knights  Valley;  Kate,  Frederick,  and 
Lydia  Pearl  are  residing  with  their  parents  at  Los  Gatos, 
Santa  Clara  County,  Cal. 

William  C.  Graves  is  a  blacksmith,  living  at  Calistoga.  He 
visited  Truckee  this  spring,  examined  the  sites  of  the  differ- 
ent cabins,  and  has  rendered  most  valuable  assistance  in  the 
preparation  of  this  history. 

The  Murphys  have  always  been  well  and  favorably  known 
in  the  best  society  of  California.  Mrs.  Harriet  F.  Pike  was 
married  at  Sutter's  Fort,  in  1847,  by  Alcalde  Sinclair,  to  M.  C. 
Nye.     Prior  to  the  discovery  of  gold,  they  lived  about  three 


THE    MURPIIYS.  24 1 

miles  above  Marysville,  which,  at  this  time,  bore  the  name  of 
Nye's  Ranch.  Mrs.  Nye  died  in  1872,  at  Dalles,  Oregon, 
and  her  remains  were  brought  to  Marysville  and  laid  in  the 
city  cemetery,  Naomi  L.  Pike  was  married,  in  1865,  to  Dr. 
Mitchell,  of  Marj^sville,  moved  to  Oregon,  became  a  widow, 
and  is  now  the  wife  of  John  L.  Schenck.  Her  address  is, 
The  Dalles,  Wasco  County,  Oregon. 

Mary  M.  IMurphy  was  married,  in  1848,  to  C.  Covillaud, 
then  of  Nye's  Ranch,  Cal.  In  1850  the  city  of  Marysville 
was  laid  out,  and  was  named  in  honor  of  Mrs.  Mary  Covil- 
laud. After  lives  of  distinguished  honor,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Covil- 
laud died,  but  there  are  now  living  five  of  their  children. 
Mary  Ellen  is  married  to  a  prominent  stock  dealer,  of  Dalles, 
Oregon ;  Charles  J.,  a  very  bright  and  promising  young  man, 
is  in  the  law  office  of  his  uncle,  William  G.  Murphy;  Wil- 
liam P.,  Frank  M.,  and  Naomi  S.,  are  all  living  at  Dalles, 
Oregon.  William  G.  Murphy  resided  at  Marysville  until 
1849,  when  he  went  east  to  receive  an  education.  He  grad- 
uated with  high  honors  at  the  State  University  of  Missouri. 
He  was  married  in  Tennessee,  returned  to  the  Pacific  Coast 
in  1858,  and  in  1863  was  duly  admitted  a  member  of  the  bar 
of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Nevada.  He  resided  and  practiced 
his  profession  at  Virginia  City  until  in  the  fall  of  1866,  when 
he  returned  to  Marysville,  Cal.  He  now  holds  the  position 
of  City  Attorney,  and  has  an  excellent  and  remunerative 
practice.  He  has  a  beautiful  and  charming  home,  and  his 
family  consists  of  himself,  his  wife,  and  seven  children.  His 
eldest,  Lulie  T.,  was  born  in  the  Territory  of  Nevada,  and 
his  second  child,  Kate  Nye,  was  born  in  Nevada  subse- 
quent to  its  admission  as  a  State.  William  G.,  Jr.,  Charles 
Mitchell,  Ernest,  Harriet  F.,  and  Leander  B.  were  born  in 
Marysville. 

Simon  P.  Murphy  went  back  to  Tennessee,  and  married  at 
16 


242  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

his  old  home.  He  served  in  the  Union  army.  He  died  in 
1873,  leaving  a  wife  and  five  children. 

William  M.  Foster  gave  his  name  to  Foster's  Bar,  on  the 
Yuba  River.  He  died  in  1874,  of  cancer.  Of  the  children  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Foster,  there  arc  now  living,  Alice,  born  in 
1848;  Georgia,  born  in  1850;  Will,  born  in  1852;  Minnie, 
born  in  1855 ;  and  Hattie,  born  in  1858.  Mrs.  S.  A.  C.  Fos- 
ter has  been  residing  in  San  Francisco,  but  her  present  ad- 
dress is,  care  of  her  brother,  Wm.  G.  Murphy,  Marysville. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Reed  settled  with  their  family  in  San  Jose, 
California.  Mrs.  Margaret  Reed  died  on  the  twenty-fifth  of 
November,  1861,  and  her  husband,  James  F.  Reed,  on  the 
twenty-fourth  of  July,  1874.  They  are  buried  side  by  side, 
their  coffins  touching.  Mrs.  Reed  died  with  her  entire  fam- 
ily gathered  about  her  bedside,  and  few  death-bed  scenes 
ever  recorded  were  more  peaceful.  As  she  entered  the  dark 
waters,  all  about  her  seemed  suddenly  bright.  She  spoke  of 
the  light,  and  asked  that  the  windows  be  darkened.  The 
curtains  were  arranged  by  those  about  her,  but  a  moment 
afterward  she  said,  "Never  mind;  I  see  you  can  not  shut  out 
the  bright  light  which  I  see."  Looking  up  at  the  faces  of 
her  husband  and  children,  she  said  very  slowly,  "  I  expect, 
when  I  die,  I  will  die  this  way,  just  as  if  I  was  going  to 
sleep.  Wouldn't  it  be  a  blessing  if  I  did?"  The  last  words 
were  uttered  just  as  the  soul  took  its  flight.  Thomas  K. 
Reed  and  James  F.  Reed,  Jr.,  reside  in  San  Jose,  Cal.  The 
latter  was  married  March  16,  1879,  ^o  Sarah  Adams.  Vir- 
ginia E.  Reed  was  married  on  the  twenty-sixth  of  January, 
1850,  to  J.  M.  Murphy.  Their  children's  names  are,  Mary  M., 
Lloyd  M.,  Mattie  H.,  John  M.,  Virginia  B.,  J.  Ada,  Dan 
James,  Annie  Mabel,  and  T.  .Stanley.  Lloyd,  Mattie,  and 
Mabel  are  sleeping  in  Oak  Hill  Cemetery,  at  San  Jose,  Cal. 
Mary  was  married  to  P.  McAran,  June  28,  1869.     Mr.  Mc- 


THE   BREENS.  243 

Aran  is  one  of  the  directors  of  the  Hibernia  Bank,  and  resides 
in  San  Francisco.  John  M.  Murphy,  Jr.,  was  married  April 
1.  1880,  to  Miss  Hattie  E.  Watkins.  Martha  J.  (Patty)  Reed 
was  married  at  Santa  Cruz,  Cal.,  December  25,  1856,  to  Mr. 
Frank  Lewis.  They  had  eight  children :  Kate,  born  Octo- 
ber 6,  1857;  Margaret  B.,  born  June  6,  i860;  Frank,  born 
March  22,  1862;  Mattie  J.,  born  April  6,  1864;  James  Fra- 
zier,  born  August  31,  1866;  a  babe,  born  May  30,  1868,  who 
died  in  infancy;  Carrie  E.,  born  September  15,  1870;  and 
Susan  A.,  born  December  31,  1873.  Mr.  Lewis  died  June  18, 
1 876.     Mrs.  Lewis  and  her  children  reside  at  San  Jose. 

Wm.  H.  Eddy  married  Mrs.  F.  Alfred,  at  Gilroy,  California, 
in  July,  1848.  They  had  three  children:  Eleanor  P.,  James 
P.,  and  Alonzo  H.  Eleanor  married  S.  B.  Anderson,  in  1871, 
and  resides  in  San  Jose.  James  married  in  1875,  ^"^1  with 
his  wife  and  two  children  resides  in  San  Jose.  Alonzo  is  a 
physician  in  Monument,  Colorado.  In  1854,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Eddy  separated,  and  in  1856  he  married  Miss  A.  M.  Pardee, 
of  St.  Louis.  Mr.  Eddy  died  December  24,  1859,  at  Peta- 
luma,  California. 

Patrick  Breen  removed  with  his  family  from  Sutter's  Fort 
early  in  1 848,  and  permanently  settled  at  the  Mission  of  San 
Juan  Bautista,  in  San  Benito  County,  California.  Mr.  Breeri 
lived  to  see  all  his  children  grow  to  maturity  and  become 
happily  established  in  life.  On  the  twenty-first  of  December, 
1868,  he  peacefully  closed  his  eyes  to  this  world,  surrounded 
by  every  member  of  his  family,  all  of  whom  he  preceded  to 
the  tomb. 

All  the  surviving  members  of  the  Breen  family  are  still 
residing  at  or  near  San  Juan.  John  Breen  married  in  1852. 
His  family,  consisting  of  his  wife  and  ten  children,  are  all 
living.  His  children's  names  are:  Lillie  M.,  Edward  P., 
John  J.,  Thomas  F.,  Adelaide  A.,  Kate,  Isabelle,  Gertrude, 


244  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER    PARTY. 

Charlotte,  and  Ellen  A.  Breen.  Edward  J.  Breen  married  in 
185S.  His  wife  died  in  1862,  leaving  the  following  children: 
Eugene  T.,  Edward  J.,  and  John  Roger.  Patrick  Breen,  Jr., 
married  in  1865  ;  his  wife  is  living,  and  their  children  are  Mary, 
William,  Peter,  Eugene.  Simon  P.  Breen  married  in  1867;  his 
wife  is  living;  their  children  are  Geneva  and  Mary.  James  F. 
Breen,  the  present  Superior  Judge  of  San  Benito  County, 
married  in  1870  ;  his  wife  is  living;  their  only  surviving  chil- 
dren are  Margaret  and  Grace.  Peter  Breen  died,  unmarried,  on 
July  3,  1870,  by  accidental  death.  Isabella  M.  Breen  was  mar- 
ried in  1869,  to  Thomas  McMahon,  and  with  her  husband 
resides  at  Hollister,  San  Benito  County.  William  M.  Breen, 
whose  portrait  appears  in  the  group  of  the  Breen  family,  was 
born  in  San  Juan  in  1848,  and  was  not  of  the  Donner  Party. 
He  married  in  1874,  leaving  a  widow,  and  one  child,  Mary. 
Margaret  Breen,  the  heroic  woman,  devoted  wife,  and 
faithful  mother,  had  the  satisfaction  of  living  to  see  her 
infant  family,  for  whose  preservation  she  had  struggled  so 
hard  and  wrought  so  ceaselessly,  grow  to  manhood  and 
womanhood.  In  prosperity,  as  in  adversity,  she  was  ever 
good,  kind,  courageous,  and  "affable  to  the  congregation  of 
the  Lord."  She  was  always  self-reliant,  and  equal  to  the 
most  trying  emergencies ;  and  yet,  at  all  times,  she  had  a 
deep  and  abiding  faith  in  God,  and  firmly  relied  on  the  mercy 
and  goodness  of  Him  to  whom  she  prayed  so  ardently  and 
confidently  in  the  heavy  hours  of  her  tribulation.  The  hope 
of  her  later  years  was  that  she  might  not  be  required  to 
witness  the  death  of  any  of  her  children ;  but  it  was  willed 
differently,  as  two  of  them  preceded  her  to  the  grave.  April 
13,  1874,  ripe  in  years,  loved  by  the  poor,  honored  and  re- 
spected by  all  for  her  virtues  and  her  well-spent  life,  she 
quietly  and  peacefully  passed  from  the  midst  of  her  sorrow- 
ing family  to  the  other  and  better  shore. 


WILLIAMIJMcCUTCHEN 

1880. 


IN    MEMORIAM.  245 

The  following  lines  from  the  pen  of  Miss  Marcella  A.  Fitz- 
gerald, the  gifted  poetess  of  Notre  Dame  Convent,  San  Jose, 
were  published  in  the  San  Francisco  Monitor,  at  the  time  of 
Mrs.  Breen's  death : 

IN   MEMORIAM. 

MRS.  MARGARET   BREEN. 


The  spring's  soft  light,  its  tender,  dreamy  beauty 
Veils  all  the  land  around  us,  and  the  dome 

Of  the  blue  skies  is  ringing  with  the  music 

Of  birds  that  come  to  seek  their  summer  home. 

But  one  whose  heart  this  beauty  often  gladdened 
No  more  shall  see  the  fragrant  flowers  expand; 

For  her  no  more  of  earth — but  fairer  portion 
Is  hers,  the  beauty  of  the  Better  Land; 

The  beauty  of  that  land  to  which  with  yearning 
Her  true  heart  turned  in  faith  and  trust  each  day; 

The  land  whose  hope  a  glorious  bow  of  promise 
Illumed  her  path  across  life's  desert  way. 

A  loving  wife;  a  fond,  devoted  mother; 

A  friend  who  reckoned  friendship  not  a  name; 
A  woman  who  with  gentle  influence  brightened 

The  hearts  of  all  who  to  her  presence  came. 

A  halo  of  good  deeds  her  life  surrounded; 

Her  crown  of  years  was  bright  with  deeds  of  love; 
Hers  was  a  gift  of  charity  whose  merits 

A  golden  treasure  waiteth  her  above. 

Out  of  the  wealth  the  Master  gave  unto  her 
She  clothed  the  needy  and  the  hungry  fed; 

The  poor  will  mourn  a  true  friend  taken  from  them— 
Above  her  will  the  orphan's  tear  be  shed. 

The  orphan's  prayer,  a  prayer  of  power  unbounded* 
In  grateful  accents  shall  for  her  ascend, 

And  strength  and  consolation  for  her  children 
Down  from  the  Savior's  pitying  heart  descend; 


246  HISTORY   OF  THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

For  over  death  the  Christian's  faith  doth  triumph- 
The  crown  of  victory  shines  above  the  Cross; 

Hers  is  the  fadeless  joy  and  ours  the  sorrow — 
Hers  is  the  gain  and  ours  the  bitter  loss. 

And  while  the  hearts  of  kindred  ache  in  sadness. 
And  gloom  rests  on  her  once  fair  home  to-day. 

As  a  true  friend  who  mourns  a  loved  one  taken. 
This  simple  wreath  upon  her  grave  I  lay. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 


The  Orphan  Children  of  George  and  Tamsen  Donner — Sutter,  the  Philanthro« 
pist — "If  Mother  would  Only  Come!" — Christian  and  Mary  Brunner — An 
Enchanting  Home — "Can't  You  Keep  Both  of  Us?" — Eliza  Donner  Cross- 
ing the  Torrent — Earning  a  Silver  Dollar — The  Gold  Excitement — Getting 
an  Education — Elitha  C.  Donner,  Leanna  C.  Donner,  Frances  E.  Donner, 
Georgia  A.  Donner,  Eliza  P.  Donner. 

=NUSUAL  interest  attaches  to  the  three  Httle  orphan 
children  mentioned  in  a  preceding  chapter.  Frances, 
Georgia,  and  EHza  Donner  reached  Sutter's  Fort  in 
April,  1847.  Here  they  met  their  two  elder  sisters, 
who,  in  charge  of  the  first  relief  party,  had  arrived 
at  the  Fort  a  few  weeks  earlier.  The  three  little  girls  were 
oitiable-looking  objects  as  they  gathered  around  the  blazing 
tii^,  .  "!'=:wering  and  asking  questions  respecting  what  had 
taken  place  since  they  parted  with  their  sisters  at  their 
mountain  cabins. 

Among  the  first  to  stretch  forth  a  helping  hand  to  clothe 
the  needy  children  was  that  noble  philanthropist,  Capt.  John 
A.  Sutter.  Other  newly-found  friends  gave  food  from  their 
scanty  supplies,  and  the  children  would  have  been  comfort- 
able for  a  time,  had  not  some  pilfering  hand  taken  all  that 
had  been  given  them.     They  were  again  obliged  to  ask  for 


248  HISTORY   OF   THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

food  of  those  whom  they  thought  would  give.  As  the 
weather  became  warmer  it  had  a  cheering  influence  over 
them.  They  forgot  their  wish  for  heavier  clothing;  but 
oftener  repeated  the  more  heartfelt  one — "  If  mother  would 
only  come!" 

Those  who  have  suffered  bereavement  under  similar  cir- 
cumstances can  understand  how  fully  these  little  girls  realized 
their  situation  when  they  were  told  that  their  mother  was 
dead. 

Not  long  after  it  became  known  that  their  parents  were 
dead,  Georgia  and  Eliza  enlisted  the  sympathies  of  a  kind- 
hearted  Swiss  couple,  Christian  and  Mary  Brunner,  who 
Hved  a  short  distance  from  the  Fort.  Mrs.  Brunner  brought 
them  bread,  butter,  eggs,  and  cheese,  with  the  kind  remark 
to  those  in  whose  hands  she  placed  the  articles:  "These  are 
for  the  little  girls  who  called  me  grandma;  but  don't  give 
them  too  much  at  a  time."  A  few  days  later,  upon  inquiring 
of  them  how  they  liked  what  she  brought,  grandma  was  told 
they  had  not  had  anything,  and  was  so  surprised  that  she  de- 
cided to  take  Georgia  home  with  her  for  a  week.  Georgia 
was  more  delicate  than  her  younger  sister.  Eliza  was  prom- 
ised that  she  should  be  treated  as  kindly  upon  Georgia's 
return.  The  week  passed,  and  Georgia  returned,  looking 
stronger.  She  told  such  wonderful  stories  about  the  man}- 
cows!  lots  of  chickens!  two  sheep  that  would  not  let  her 
pass  unless  she  carried  a  big  stick  in  sight!  about  the  kind- 
ness grandma,  grandpa,  and  Jacob,  his  brother,  had  shown 
to  her,  that  it  seemed  to  Eliza  the  time  would  never  come 
when  she  and  grandma  were  to  start  to  that  enchanting 
home!  Such  a  week  of  pleasure!  Who  but  that  little  girl 
could  describe  it!  Grandma's  bread  and  milk  gave  strength 
to  her  limbs  and  color  to  her  cheeks.  She  chased  the  chick- 
ens, and  drove  the  cows;  she  brought  chips  for  grandma, 


ELIZA   DONNER   CROSSING   THE   TORRENT.  249 

rode  the  horse  for  Jacob,  and  sat  upon  grandpa's  knee  so 
cheerfully,  that  they  began  to  feel  as  if  she  belonged  to  them. 
But  her  week  had  come  to  an  end!  Grandma,  all  dressed 
for  a  walk  to  the  Fort,  sought  the  little  girl,  who  was  busy  at 
play,  and  said:  "  Come,  Eliza,  I  hear  that  Georgia  is  sick, 
and  I  am  going  to  take  you  back,  and  bring  her  in  your 
place."  The  sweet  little  girl  looked  very  grave  for  a  moment, 
then  glancing  up  with  her  large  black  eyes  into  that  dear  old 
face,  she  took  courage,  and  asked,  with  the  earnestness  of  an 
anxious  child:  "  Grandma,  can't  you  keep  both  of  us?" 

This  simple  question  provided  a  home  for  both  until  after 
Hiram  Miller  was  appointed  their  guardian.  He  was  intrusted 
with  their  money,  obtained  from  Keseberg  and  from  other 
sources.  The  little  sisters  were  then  again  separated.  Fran- 
ces had  found  a  home  in  Mrs.  Reed's  family.  Georgia  was 
to  go  with  grandpa,  who  was  about  to  remove  to  Sonoma. 
Eliza  went  to  her  eldest  sister,  who  was  now  married  and  liv- 
ing on  the  Cosumnes  River.  Here  she  remained  until  win- 
ter. Then,  hearing  that  Mr.  Brunner's  family  and  Georgia 
desired  her  return,  she  became  so  homesick  that  her  sister 
consented  to  her  going  to  them.  Fortunately,  they  heard  of 
two  families  who  were  to  move  to  Sonoma  in  a  very  short 
time,  and  Eliza  was  placed  in  their  charge.  This  journey 
was  marked  with  many  incidents  which  seemed  marvelous  to 
her  child-mind.  The  one  which  impressed  itself  most  forci- 
bly occurred  upon  their  arrival  at  the  bank  of  the  Sonoma 
River.  She  was  told  that  Jacob  would  meet  her  here  and 
take  her  to  grandma's,  and  was  delighted  that  her  journey 
was  so  nearly  over.  Imagine  her  disappointment  at  finding 
the  recent  rains  had  raised  the  river  until  a  torrent  flowed 
between  her  and  her  anxious  friends.  For  days  Jacob  sought 
the  slowly-decreasing  flood  and  called  across  the  rushing 
stream  to  cheer  the  eager  child.     Finally,  an  Indian,  who 


250  HISTORY   OF  THE    CONNER   PARTY. 

understood  Jacob's  wish,  offered  to  carry  her  safely  over  for 
a  silver  dollar.  Never  did  silver  look  brighter  than  that 
which  Jacob  held  between  his  fingers,  above  his  head,  that 
sunny  morning,  to  satisfy  the  Indian  that  his  price  would  be 
paid  when  he  and  his  charge  reached  the  other  bank. 

What  a  picture  this  scene  presents  to  the  mind  !  There  is 
the  Indian  leading  his  gray  pony  to  the  river's  side  !  He  ex- 
amines him  carefully,  and  puts  the  blanket  on  more  securely ! 
He  waits  for  the  approaching  child.  How  small  she  is — not 
five  years  old !  How  she  trembles  with  dread  as  the  swift 
current  meets  her  eye  !  Yet  she  is  anxious  to  go.  One 
pleading  look  in  the  Indian's  face,  and  she  is  ready.  He 
mounts;  she  is  placed  behind  him;  her  little  arms  are 
stretched  tightly  around  his  dusky  form  !  He  presses  his  el- 
bows to  his  sides  to  made  her  more  secure,  and,  by  signs, 
warns  her  against  loosening  her  grasp,  or  she,  like  the  pass- 
ing branches,  will  be  the  water's  prey  !  They  enter  the  stream. 
Oh  !  how  cold  the  water  is !  They  reach  the  middle ;  her 
grasp  is  tighter,  and  she  holds  her  breath  with  fear,  for  they 
are  drifting  with  the  current  past  where  Jacob  stands  !  But 
joy  comes  at  last.  They  have  crossed  the  river.  There 
stands  the  pony  shaking  the  water  from  his  sides.  The  In- 
dian takes  his  dollar  with  a  grunt  of  satisfaction,  and  Jacob 
catches  up  the  little  girl,  mounts  his  horse,  and  hurries  off  to 
grandpa's,  where  grandma,  Leanna,  and  Georgia  are  waiting 
to  give  her  a  warm  welcome. 

Months  passed  pleasantly,  but  gradually  changes  occurred. 
The  war  with  Mexico  ended,  and  gold  was  discovered.  All 
the  men  who  were  able  to  go,  hurried  off  to  the  mines  to 
make  a  fortune.  The  little  girls  gave  up  their  plays,  for 
grandma  was  not  able  to  do  all  the  work,  and  grandpa  and 
Jacob  were  away.  They  spent  seven  years  with  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Brunner.     They    were    kindly   treated,  but   their  education 


THE  DONNER  ORPHAN  CHILDREN.  25 1 

was  neglected.  In  1854,  their  eldest  sister,  Elitha,  and  her 
husband,  came  to  Sonoma,  and  offered  them  a  home  and  an 
opportunity  of  attendingschool.  This  kind  offer  was  accepted. 
For  six  years  Eliza  remained  in  Sacramento,  in  the  family  of 
her  sister,  Elitha.  To  her  she  was  indebted  for  the  opportun- 
ity she  enjoyed  of  attending,  for  one  year,  with  her  sister 
Frances  and  afterwards  Georgia,  St.  Catherine's  Academy,  at 
Benicia,  and  the  public  schools  of  Sacramento. 

Elitha  C.  Donner  married  Perry  McCoon,  who  was  subse- 
quently killed  by  a  runaway  horse.  On  the  eighth  of 
December,  1853,  Mrs.  McCoon  was  married  to  Benj.  W. 
Wilder.  They  reside  on  the  Cosumnes  River,  a  few  miles 
from  Elk  Grove,  Sacramento  County,  Cal.,  and  have  six 
children.  Leanna  C.  Donner  was  married  September  26, 
1852,  to  John  App.  They  now  reside  in  Jamestown,  Tuol- 
umne County,  Cal.,  and  their  family  consists  of  Rebecca  E., 
born  February  9,  1854;  John  Q.,  born  January  19,  1864;  and 
Lucy  E.,  born  August  12,  1868,  who  reside  with  their  parents. 

Frances  E.  Donner  was  married  November  24,  1858,  to 
William  R.  Wilder,  and  now  resides  at  Point  of  Timber,  Con- 
tra Costa  County,  Cal.  Their  children  are:  Harriet,  born 
August  24,  1859;  James  William,  bom  May  30,  1863;  Fran- 
ces Lillian,  born  July  17,  1867;  Asaph,  born  May  7,  1870; 
and  Susan  Tamsen,  born  September  3,  1878.  Georgia  A. 
Donner  was  married  November  4,  1863,  to  W.  A.  Babcock. 
Their  family  consists  of  Henry  A,,  born  August  23,  1864; 
Frank  B.,  born  June  29,  1866;  and  Edith  M.,  born  August 
24,  1868.  Their  address  is  Mountain  View,  Santa  Clara 
County,  Cal. 

Eliza  P.  Donner,  on  the  tenth  of  October,  1861,  was  mar- 
ried to  Sherman  O.  Houghton.  Mr.  Houghton  was  born  in 
New  York  City,  April  10,  1828,  served  in  the  Mexican  war, 
was  Mayor  of  San  Jose  in  1855  and  1856,  represented  Cali- 


252  HISTORY   OF  THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

fornia  in  the  Forty-second  and  Forty-third  Congress,  and  is 
at  present  a  prominent  member  of  the  San  Jose  bar.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Houghton  have  six  children.  Tlie  youngest  Hving  was 
born  in  Washington,  D.  C,  at  which  city  his  family  resided 
during  the  four  years  he  served  as  member  of  Congress. 
Their  children  are:  Eliza  P.,  Sherman  O.,  Clara  H.,  Charles 
D.,  Francis  J.,  and  Stanley  W.  Their  youngest  born,  Her- 
bert S.,  died  March  18,  1878,  aged  twenty  months.  Mary  M. 
Donner,  daughter  of  Jacob  Donner,  was  adopted  into  the 
family  of  Mr.  James  F.  Reed,  in  1848.  She  continued  a 
member  of  this  family  until  her  marriage  with  Hon.  S.  O. 
Houghton,  of  San  Jose,  August  23,  1859.  June  21,  i860, 
Mrs.  Mary  M.  Houghton  died,  leaving  an  infant  daughter, 
Mary  M.,  who  is  now  a  young  lady,  and  a  member  of  the 
family  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Houghton. 

George  Donner,  Jr.,  son  of  Jacob  Donner,  married  Miss 
Margaret  J.  Watson,  June  8,  1862.  Their  children  now  living 
are:  Mary  E.,  Cora  J.,  George  W.,  John  C,  Betty  L.,  and 
Frank  M.  Albert,  their  eldest,  died  in  1869,  and  an  infant 
son  died  in  1875.  George  Donner,  Jr.,  died  at  Sebastopol, 
February  17,  1874.  Mrs.  Donner  now  lives  with  her  children 
'^n  their  farm  near  Sebastopol,  Sonoma  County,  California. 


Chapter  XXIV. 


Verba  Baena's  Gift  to  George  and  Mary  Donner — An  Alcalde's  Negligence — 
Mary  Donner's  Land  Regranted — Squatters  Jump  George  Donner's  Land — 
A  Characteristic  Land  Law  Suit — Vexatious  Litigation — Twice  Appealed 
to  Supreme  Court,  and  Once  to  United  States  Supreme  Court — A  Well- 
taken  Law  Point — Mutilating  Records — A  Palpable  Erasure — Relics  of  the 
Donner  Party — Five  Hundred  Articles — Buried  Thirty-two  Years — Knives, 
Forks,  Spoons — Pretty  Porcelain — Identifying  Chinaware — Beads  and  Ar- 
row-heads— A  Quaint  Bridle  Bit — Remarkable  Action  of  Rust — A  Flint- 
lock Pistol — A  Baby's  Shoe — The  Resting  Place  of  the  Dead — Vanishing 
Landmarks. 

^ERBA  BUENA'S  citizens,  shortly  after  the  arrival 
of  George  and  Mary  Donner,  contributed  a  fund 
for  the  purpose  of  purchasing  for  each  of  them  a 
town  lot.  It  happened  that  these  lots  were  being 
then  distributed  among  the  residents  of  the  town. 
Upon  the  petition  of  James  F.  Reed,  a  grant  was  made  to 
George  Donner  of  one  hundred  vara  lot  number  thirty-nine, 
and  the  adjoining  lot,  number  thirty-eight,  was  granted  to 
Mary.  The  price  of  each  lot  was  thirty-two  dollars,  and  both 
were  paid  for  out  of  the  fund.  The  grants  were  both  entered 
of  record  by  the  Alcalde,  George  Hyde.  The  grant  made  to 
George  was  signed  by  the  Alcalde,  but  that  made  to  Mary 
was,  through  inadvertence,  not  signed.    A  successor  of  Hyde, 


254  HISTORY   OF  THE   DONNER   PARTY, 

as  Alcalde,  regranted  the  lot  of  IMary  Donner  to  one  Ward, 
who  discovered  the  omission  of  the  Alcalde's  name  to  her 
grant.  This  omission  caused  her  to  lose  the  lot.  Ini85i,a 
number  of  persons  squatted  on  the  lot  of  George  Donner, 
and  in  1854  brought  suit  against  him  in  the  United  States 
Circuit  Court  to  quiet  their  title.  This  suit  was  subsequently- 
abandoned  under  the  belief  that  George  Donner  was  dead. 
In  1856,  a  suit  was  instituted  by  George  Donner,  through  his 
guardian,  to  recover  possession  of  the  lot.  Down  to  the 
spring  of  i860,  but  little  progress  had  been  made  toward  re- 
covering the  possession  of  the  lot  from  the  squatters.  The 
attorneys  who  had  thus  far  conducted  the  litigation  on  be- 
half of  George  Donner,  were  greatly  embarrassed  because  of 
their  inability  to  fully  prove  the  delivery  of  the  grant  to  him, 
or  to  some  one  for  him,  the  courts  of  the  State  having, 
from  the  first  litigation  concerning  similar  grants,  laid  down 
and  adhered  to  the  rule  that  such  grants  did  not  take  effect 
unless  the  original  grant  was  delivered  to  the  grantee.  Such 
proof  was  therefore  deemed  indispensable. 

After  such  proofs  upon  this  point  as  were  accessible  had 
been  made,  the  proceedings  had  ceased,  and  for  several 
months  there  had  been  no  prospect  of  any  further  progress 
being  made.  During  this  time,  one  Yontz,  who  had  under- 
taken to  recover  possession  of  the  lot  at  his  own  expense  for 
a  share  of  it,  had  the  management  of  the  case,  and  had  em- 
ployed an  attorney  to  conduct  the  litigation.  Yontz  became 
unable,  pecuniarily,  to  proceed  further  with  the  case,  and  in- 
formed Donner  of  the  fact,  whereupon  the  latter  induced  his 
brother-in-law,  S.  O.  lioughton,  to  attempt  to  prosecute  his 
claim  to  some  final  result.  Mr.  Houghton  applied  to  the 
court  to  be  substituted  as  attorney  in  the  case,  but  resistance 
was  made  by  the  attorney  of  Yontz,  and  the  application  was 
denied.     Houghton  then  applied  to  the  Supreme  Court  for  a 


c 
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ix 


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CI 

X 


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5 


A    CHARACTERISTIC   LAto   LAW    SUIT.  255 

writ  of  mandate  to  compel  the  judge  of  the  court  before 
which  the  suit  was  pending,  to  order  his  substitution  as  at- 
torney of  record  for  Donner.  This  writ  was  granted  by  the 
Supreme  Court,  and  in  January,  1861,  Mr.  Houghton  became 
the  attorney  of  record.  This  suit  had  been  brought  by  Green 
McMahon,  who  had  been  appointed  Donner's  guardian  for 
that  purpose,  and  after  a  full  examination  of  the  case,  Mr. 
Houghton  dismissed  it,  and  immediately  commenced  an- 
other in  the  name  of  George  Donner,  who  was  then  of  age. 
In  the  following  year,  February,  1862,  it  was  brought  to  trial 
before  a  jury,  and  after  a  contest  which  lasted  ten  days,  a 
verdict  was  rendered  in  favor  of  Donner. 

The  squatters  appealed  to  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  State 
where  the  verdict  of  the  jury  was  set  aside,  a  new  trial  or- 
dered, and  the  case  sent  back  for  that  purpose.     This  new 
trial  was  procured  by  means  of  an  amendment  of  the  law 
regulating  trials  by  jury  in  civil  cases.     This  amendment  was 
passed  by  the  Legislature,  at  the  instance  of  the  squatters, 
after  the  verdict  had  been  rendered.     A  new  trial  was  had  in 
1864,  before  a  jury,  and  resulted  in  another  verdict  for  Don- 
ner.    The  first  trial  had  attracted  much  attention,  and  was 
frequently  mentioned  in  the  newspapers  of  San  Francisco, 
and  thus  several  persons  who  were  present  when  the  grant 
was  made  had  their  attention  called  to  the  controversy,  and 
to  the  difficulty  encountered   in   proving  a  delivery  of  the 
grant.     They  communicated  to  Donner  the  fact  that  it  was 
delivered  for  him  to  William  McDonald,  the  man  with  whom 
he  lived  at  the  time.     They  also  narrated  the  circumstances 
attending  the  delivery  of  the  grant.     This  information,  how- 
ever, came  too  late  for  the  purposes  of  the  trial.    Prior  to  the 
second  trial,  the  written  testimony  of  all  these  witnesses  was 
procured  and  in  readiness  for  use  when  required,  but  it  was 
never  required.     Mr.  Houghton  and  the  attorneys  whom  he 


256  HISTORY   OF  THE   DONNEK   PARTY. 

had  called  upon  to  aid  in  the  case,  determined  to  rest  its  de- 
cision upon  another  ground.  They  concluded  to  insist  that, 
as  it  was  a  grant  issuing  from  the  government  through  its  in- 
strument, the  Alcalde,  who  was  invested  with  authority  for 
the  purpose,  no  delivery  of  the  grant  was  necessary,  and  that 
none  was  possible,  as  the  entry  on  the  record  book  of  the 
Alcalde  was  the  original,  it  bearing  his  official  signature  and 
being  a  pubhc  record  of  his  official  act.  This  was  a  bold  at- 
tack upon  the  rule  v/hich  the  courts  had  long  established  to 
the  contrary.  After  a  full  argument  of  the  question  at  the 
second  trial,  the  court  sustained  the  view  of  the  law  taken  by 
Mr.  Houghton  and  his  associates,  and,  on  appeal,  the  decision 
was  sustained  by  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  State,  and  subse- 
quently affirmed  by  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States, 
before  which  the  question  was  carried  by  writ  of  error. 

Donner's  attorneys  adopted  this  course  because,  at  the 
first  trial,  the  squatters  had  produced  the  copy  of  the  grant 
which  had  actually  been  issued  and  delivered.  This  they 
had  obtained  possession  of  and  mutilated,  and  then  had  sur- 
reptitiousl}^  placed  it  in  the  office  of  the  County  Clerk  of  San 
Francisco,  who  was  the  custodian  of  the  records  of  the 
office  of  the  Alcaldes  of  San  Francisco.  Their  purpose  was 
to  make  it  appear  that  it  had  never  been  signed  or  issued  by 
the  Alcalde,  but  had  been  transferred  with  the  other  papers 
and  records  of  that  office  to  the  office  of  the  County  Clerk. 
This  document  was  written  on  paper  having  the  same  water- 
marks as  numerous  other  grants  to  other  persons,  admitted 
to  be  genuine,  made  about  the  same  time  as  the  grant  to 
Donncr.  The  body  of  this  instrument  was  in  the  hand- 
writing of  the  then  clerk  of  the  Alcalde,  and  the  certificate 
that  the  Alcalde's  fees  had  been  paid  bore  the  genuine  signa- 
ture of  the  clerk.  There  was,  however,  no  signature  or 
name  where  the  signature  of  the  Alcalde  should  have  been; 


RELICS    OF   THE    CONNER    PARTY.  257 

but  there  was,  instead,  a  plain,  palpable  erasure,  easily  seen 
by  holding  the  paper  to  the  light. 

George  Donner  lived  to  see  his  property  become  very 
valuable,  but  the  vexatious  litigation  above  described  was 
not  terminated  until  after  his  death.  Meantime,  however,  he 
sold  his  interest,  receiving  therefor  a  considerable  sum  of 
money. 

In  conclusion  it  may  be  proper  to  speak  of  the  many  in- 
teresting relics  which  have  recently  been  found  under  the 
former  sites  of  the  cabins  of  the  Donner  Party.  When  the 
last  relief  party  left  Donner  Lake,  all  articles  of  minor  value 
were  left  scattered  here  and  there  about  the  floors  and  door- 
yards.  Soon  afterward  the  tide  of  emigrant  travel  turned 
principally  to  other  routes,  and  the  Donner  Lake  road  was 
comparatively  deserted.  Years  passed,  and  the  loose  soil, 
the  wind-blown  dust,  the  grass  and  fallen  leaves  covered  the 
articles  from  sight.  It  was  twenty  years  before  men  began 
to  search  for  the  sites  of  the  cabins,  and  to  carry  away  little 
mementos  of  the  mournful  place.  Nothing  at  this  time 
remained  in  sight  save  a  few  charred  logs,  and  a  few  score 
of  tall,  unsightly  stumps.  Even  the  old  pioneers  had  great 
difficulty  in  pointing  out  the  location  of  more  than  one  or 
two  of  the  cabins.  After  the  preparation  of  this  history 
began,  the  author  induced  several  of  the  survivors  to  visit 
Donner  Lake,  and  to  assist  in  definitely  determining  the 
location  and  boundaries  of  the  cabins.  Digging  in  the  earth 
which  thirty-two  years  ago  formed  the  cabin  floors,  the  most 
interesting  relics  were  found.  A  collection  of  over  five  hun- 
dred of  these  articles  is  in  the  author's  possession.  There 
are  spoons  which  are  bent  and  rust-eaten,  some  of  which  are 
partially  without  bowls,  and  some  destitute  of  handles,  the 
missing  portions  being  vaguely  shadowed  in  the  rust-stained 

earth  in  which  they  were  imbedded.     Knives  there  are  whose 
17 


258  HISTORY   OF   THE    CONNER   PARTY 

blades  are  mere  skeleton  outlines  of  what  they  formerly 
were,  and  which  in  some  instances  appear  to  be  only  thin 
scales  of  rust.  The  tines  of  the  forks  are  sometimes  pretty 
well  preserved,  sometimes  almost  entirely  worn  away  by  the 
action  of  rust. 

Among  the  relics  found  at  the  Breen  cabin  are  numerous 
pieces  of  old  porcelain,  and  china-ware.  These  fragments 
are  readily  distinguished  by  painted  flowers,  or  unique  de- 
signs enameled  in  red,  blue,  or  purple  colors  upon  the  pure 
white  ground-surface  of  the  china-ware.  This  ware  is  cele- 
brated for  the  durability  of  its  glaze  or  enamel,  which  can 
not  be  scratched  with  a  knife,  and  is  not  acted  upon  by 
vegetable  acids.  The  relics  unearthed  were  found  at  a  depth 
of  from  one  to  six  inches  beneath  the  ground  which  formed 
the  floor.  A  fragment  of  this  ware,  together  with  an  old- 
fashioned  gun-flint,  was  sent  to  Hon.  James  F.  Breen,  who 
wrote  in  reply : 

"  The  relics,  piece  of  chinaware  and  gun-flint,  are  highly 
appreciated.  The  chinaware  was  at  once  recognized  by  my 
brother.  In  fact,  there  is  one  piece  of  the  china  set  (a  cream 
pitcher)  still  in  the  possession  of  my  brother.  The  piece 
sent  is  recognizable  by  the  decoration  figures,  which  corre- 
spond exactly  with  those  on  the  pitcher." 

There  is  less  of  the  "ghastly"  and  "horrible"  among  the 
relics  thus  far  discovered  than  would  be  supposed.  There 
are  many,  like  the  beads  and  arrow-heads,  which  were  evi- 
dently treasured  by  members  of  the  party  as  relics  or  curios- 
ities collected  while  crossing  the  plains.  There  are  pieces  of 
looking-glass  which  reflected  the  sunken,  starved  features  of 
the  emigrants.  Among  the  porcelain  arc  pieces  of  pretty 
cups  and  saucers,  and  dainty,  expensive  plates,  which  in 
those  days  were  greatly  prized.  Bits  of  glassware,  such  as 
tumblers,  vials,  and  dishes,  are  quite  numerous.     Bolts,  nails, 


A   FLINT-LOCK    PISTOL.  259 

screws,  nuts,  chains,  and  portions  of  the  wagon  irons,  are 
almost  unrecognizable  on  account  of  the  rust.  The  nails  are 
wrought,  and  some  of  them  look  as  if  they  might  have  been 
hammered  out  by  the  emigrants.  One  of  these  nails  is  so 
firmly  imbedded  in  rust  alongside  a  screw,  that  the  two  are 
inseparable.  Metallic  buttons  are  found  well  preserved,  a 
sewing  awl  is  quite  plainly  distinguishable,  and  an  old-fash- 
ioned, quaint-looking  bridle-bit  retains  much  of  its  original 
~  form.  Some  of  the  more  delicate  and  perishable  articles 
;  present  the  somewhat  remarkable  appearance  of  having  in- 
creased in  size  by  the  accumulations  of  rust  and  earth  in 
which  they  are  encased.  This  is  especially  the  case  with 
a  darning-needle,  which  has  increased  its  circumference  in 
places  nearly  one  half,  while  in  other  places  it  is  eaten  away 
until  only  a  mere  filament  of  steel  remains.  The  sharp  point 
of  a  curved  sewing-awl  has  grown  with  rust  until  it  is  larger 
than  the  body  of  the  awl.  Several  fish-hooks  have  been 
found,  all  more  or  less  rust-eaten.  A  brass  pistol,  single- 
barreled,  apparently  a  century  old,  was  found  under  the 
Graves  cabin,  and  near  it  was  an  old  flint-lock.  In  the  cor- 
ner of  the  fire-place  of  the  Reed  cabin  were  found  several 
bullets  and  number  two  shot.  Gun-flints,  ready  for  use  or 
in  a  crude  form,  were  found  in  each  of  the  cabins. 

W.  C.  Graves  visited  the  site  of  his  father's  cabin  on  the 
twenty-first  of  April,  1879,  and  many  articles  were  dug  up  in 
his  presence  which  he  readily  recognized.  A  large  number 
of  the  leading  citizens  of  Truckee  were  present,  and  assisted 
in  searching  for  the  relics.  Among  other  things  was  a  coop- 
er's inshave,  which  belonged  to  his  father,  who  was  a  cooper 
by  trade.  An  iron  wagon-hammer  was  also  immediately 
recognized  as  having  been  used  in  their  wagon.  A  small  tin 
box,  whose  close-fitting  cover  was  hermetically  sealed  with 
rust,  was  found,  and  while  it  was  being  examined,  one  of  the 


2Go  HISTORY   OF  THE   DONNER   PARTY. 

gentlemen,  Mr.  Frank  Rabel,  tapped  it  lightly  with  his  knife- 
handle.  The  side  of  the  box  crushed  as  easily  as  if  it  had 
been  an  egg-shell.  The  wonderful  fact  connected  with  this 
relic,  however,  is  that  Mr.  Graves  said,  before  the  box  was 
crushed,  that  his  mother  kept  oil  of  hemlock  in  this  box,  and 
that  upon  examination  a  distinct  odor  of  oil  of  hemlock  was 
found  remaining  in  the  box. 

A  whetstone,  or  what  might  more  properly  be  called  an 
oil-stone,  was  discovered  at  the  Breen  cabin.  On  this  stone 
were  the  initials  "J.  F.  R.,"  which  had  evidently  been  cut 
into  its  surface  with  a  knife-blade.  Mrs.  V.  E.  Murphy  and 
Mrs.  Frank  Lewis,  the  daughters  of  James  F.  Reed,  at  once 
remembered  this  whetstone  as  having  belongec'  to  their 
father,  and  fully  identified  it  upon  examination. 

A  great  many  pins  have  been  found,  most  of  which  are 
the  old-fashioned  round-headed  ones.  A  strange  feature  it 
regard  to  these  pins  is  that  although  bright  and  clean,  they 
crumble  and  break  at  almost  the  slightest  touch.  The  metal 
of  which  they  are  made  appears  to  be  entirely  decomposed. 
One  of  the  most  touching  relics,  in  view  of  the  sad,  sad  his- 
tory, is  the  sole  of  an  infant's  shoe.  The  tiny  babe  who 
wore  the  shoe  was  probably  among  the  number  who  perished 
of  starvation. 

The  big  rock  against  which  the  Murphy  cabin  stood  is 
half  hidden  by  willows  and  by  fallen  tamaracks,  whose 
branches  are  interlaced  so  as  to  form  a  perfect  net-work  above 
the  place  where  the  cabin  stood.  Under  the  floor  of  this 
cabin  the  remains  of  the  poor  victims  are  supposed  to  have 
been  buried.  Nature  appears  to  have  made  every  effort  to 
conceal  the  spot.  In  addition  to  the  bushes  and  the  fallen 
trees  there  is  a  rank  growth  of  marsh  grass,  whose  rootlets 
extend  far  down  in  the  soil,  and  firmly  resist  either  shovel  or 
spade.     Until  very  late  in  the  summer  this  mournful  spot  is 


VANISHING   LANDMARKS.  26 1 

Still  further  protected  by  being  inundated  by  the  waters  of 
Donner  Creek.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  remark  that  no 
relics  have  ever  been  found  under  the  site  of  the  Murphy 
cabin.  The  tall  stumps  which  surround  this  rock,  and  the 
site  of  the  Graves  and  Reed  cabin,  and  which  are  particu- 
larly numerous  around  the  site  of  the  Donner  tents  at  Alder 
Creek,  are  of  themselves  remarkable  relics.  Many  of  them 
were  cut  by  persons  who  stood  on  the  top  of  very  deep  snow. 
They  are  frequently  ten,  fifteen,  and  twenty  feet  in  height. 
Time  and  the  action  of  the  elements  have  caused  them  to 
decay  until,  in  some  instances,  a  child'5  hand  might  cause 
them  to  totter  and  fall.  In  a  few  years  more  they  all  wiU 
have  disappeared. 


A 


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